


hazy shade of winter

by lizamarri



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Annabeth Chase, BAMF Percy Jackson, BAMF Piper McLean, Everyone's BAMF, Explicit Language, F/M, Frazel is a Married Couple in Soul, Inspired by The Umbrella Academy, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, More tags to be added, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Smoking, Thalia is done, Umbrella Academy AU, an amateur? naw., frazel - Freeform, jasper - Freeform, like jason and thalia? siblings. but piper and jason? NOT SIBLINGS., percabeth, piper's basically harley quinn with more stability and a better boyfriend, platonic pipercy brotp, rated M for language violence and sexual content, she calls jason boyo cuz i think it's cute, solangelo, some of them call each other their siblings but most of them are not siblings, they all have ~powers~, they are NOT siblings in this universe btw, they're adults they curse and get drunk and beat up bad people, what do you think i am, which are all loosely based on their canon powers of course, yayy!!!, you don't have to know umbrella academy to read this!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizamarri/pseuds/lizamarri
Summary: On October 1st, 1997, forty three women around the world gave birth. The circumstances of the birth were extraordinary, as none of the women had been pregnant when the day began. An eccentric billionaire known only as Dionysus adopted twelve of the babies and raised them to become the world famous, world feared, UMBRELLA ACADEMY.Twenty-two years later, and he's dead.An awkward funeral. An unexpected arrival. An enemy that no one understands. A secret organization. Eleven (and maybe twelve) mentally fucked-up sort-of adults.The fun hasjustbegun.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Piper McLean, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Bianca di Angelo & Nico di Angelo, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Jason Grace & Thalia Grace, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo & The Seven & Will Solace, Nico di Angelo & Will Solace, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Percy Jackson & Piper McLean
Comments: 140
Kudos: 165





	1. Apparently We're All Depressed?

**Author's Note:**

> hi welcome to my disaster
> 
> so this idea has refused to get out of my head for a solid month now after i binged s2 all in one day. (yeah it was summer and i have no life) i noticed the similarities between allison and piper and i went into a daydream coma for a solid thirty minutes before my brain shit (shitted? shat?) out this fully formed fucking universe
> 
> now to write it all down
> 
> unlike my other fics, this is a WORK IN PROGRESS. this means updates will be sporatic, aka i’ll update whenever i get off my ass and write. school is starting as well, which means it’ll be even more touch and go bc work + my adhd ass? they hate each other.
> 
> you’re here, you’re probably queer, so let’s give up a cheer for HAZY SHADE OF WINTER!!!!!

_Smash._

Annabeth rolls her eyes and steps over the mess of shattered glass, and keeps walking. She weaves through the foot traffic like an expert because, well, she is one.

Standing on the doorstep, her eyes trace along the three-pointed umbrella-shaped wrought iron icons. Annabeth bites down on her lip, rolling it in between her teeth as she taps her fingers on the side of her leg. 

“‘Scuse me, Beth, but if you’re not gonna move, could you let me through?”

Annabeth steps back. Clarisse strides through like she’s the queen of the place, and slams the gates shut behind her. 

Annabeth sighs, and pushes open the gates. She catches the door behind Clarisse, and it closes behind the two of them with a satisfying click. 

“You’re late.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Annabeth shoots back. “Come on Piper, you’ve known me for twenty-two long years. You really think I give a shit?”

“Language,” Frank mutters quietly. 

“Sorry Frankie, but fuck that.” Piper giggles. “Dad’s dead. Be happy about it.”

“Why would I be happy about it?”

“He was a monster,” Hazel says right as Nico spits out, “He was a total douchebag.”

Annabeth shrugs, and jumps onto one of the ornate embroidered couches that litter the living room. She paces across it, dirty combat boots leaving faint shoe prints on the cushions. “Now that he’s dead, we can do whatever the fuck we want. Who else is up for finding his portrait and spray painting all over it?”

Leo unashamedly lifts his hand, and Hazel smacks it down. “We are not defacing anything,” she insists sternly, then leans back in her chair. “We’re just gonna sell all of this ugly-ass furniture and split the money.”

Jason splutters. “That isn’t right! He was our dad!”

Piper laughs. “He was a total shithead and you know it.”

“I’m on-board.” Nico shrugs. 

And Clarisse; “Fuck yeah.”

“Fuck yeah!” Leo echoes.

“Can I keep that massive yellow bean bag we made Mom buy for us?”

“That’s my beanbag, Will! You can’t have it!”

“But I asked for it!”

“I convinced her to get it!”

Annabeth sighs, hanging her head before cupping her hands around her mouth. “SHUT UP!” she screams. 

The front door bangs open on the other side of the floor, letting in dusty sunrays. A figure steps through, his outline carved into the light before she can even see his face. 

Percy slams the door shut before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Do I really have to be here?”

“Yes,” Hazel, Annabeth, and Jason say at the same time.

Percy rolls his eyes, and the piercing in his eyebrow moves. “Everyone hates the old man as much as I do, you know. We’d all rather not be here.” His words are a little sharp due to a lip ring running perpendicular to the line of his bottom lip. 

“Mm, that’s new,” Annabeth says, gesturing to his hair.

Percy grins- that stupid, infuriating trouble-maker grin- and runs his fingers through the new blue streaks in his black locks. “Yeah, what’d you think?”

“You look properly punk, Percy. Congratulations,” she deadpans. 

“You’re still late, though.” This time it’s Jason who says it. 

Percy gives a more succinct reply than her; he just throws Jason the finger and collapses on the couch next to Annabeth. He grins again, and yanks on her boot lace.

She’s still standing; and looks down at him. “Could you not?”

He tugs at her laces again, this time undo-ing the bow. “Nope.”

Annabeth groans, crumbling to a seat. “Hazel, we’re not selling the furniture.”

She huffs a sigh of defeat.

“We’ll keep it just in case we’re all broke someday and then sell it.”

“What are we gonna do with the house?” Will asks. _His hair’s getting long, it needs a cut._

Annabeth shrugs, opting out of answering in favor of climbing behind Percy and shoving herself between him and the back of the couch. She wraps her legs around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder. He smiles, she can feel it against her cheek. 

“Can you not?” he asks.

“Nope!” Annabeth cries. “Karma, baby.” She picks at the rips in his jeans like one would strings on a guitar.

Piper coughs. “Ignoring all of-” she waves her hands in Annabeth and Percy’s direction. “That,” she continues, “we should decide what we’re doing.” Percy sticks out his tongue in retaliation; Annabeth just sends a glare. 

“Seriously, what are we going to do with the house? I’m about ninety percent sure none of us want to ever live here again.”

Nico snorts. “Try one-hundred.” He turns to his right, where there’s seemingly no one there. “No Bi, I’m not interested in showcasing the same house we buried you outside of.”

“What does Bianca say?” Hazel asks. 

“She wants to turn this place into a museum,” Nico says. “Something about a lot of people want to see where the Umbrella Academy grew up.”

“Ha,” Piper deadpans. “Sorry, but nope. I don’t really want people poking around my childhood room.”

“Can we wrap this up? I have things to do,” Clarisse complains. 

“Things to do, more like people to punch,” Leo mutters.

“In fact, Valdez, you’re correct. And if you don’t shut up, you’ll be one of them.”

Leo lights a fire in his palm. “You want a fight? Bring it on, meat fists!”

“SHUT UP,” Annabeth and Percy yell in unison. 

Annabeth props her elbow up on Percy’s right shoulder, the one her chin isn’t resting on, and gestures to the house. “Clarisse is right. I don’t want to be stuck in this dusty old shit-shack longer then I have to.”

Percy gently wraps his fingers around her wrist then yanks her arm off his right shoulder. She tugs on his eyebrow ring with her other hand in retaliation. “I mean, we should just dump his ashes in the yard and get it over with.”

Piper shakes her head slightly, eyes squinting. “You two have the weirdest relationship, you know that?”

Percy glares back, stony faced. “I would shrug but I can’t move my shoulders.”

Annabeth scoffs. “Oh cry me a river, this is nothing compared to the time you threw me into the fucking Thames.”

“Not my fault Dad didn’t tell us not to jump off of Millennium Bridge.”

“Ahem,” Hazel interrupts. “You just said Clarisse is right, and I agree. Can we get this over with?”

Percy scowls, and tugs on his blue-tinted hair. “Fine. Fucking fine.”

“Perseus, I thought we talked about cursing in this house.”

Everyone whips their heads around. “Chiron,” Percy breathes. “Hey.”

“Hello to all of you as well,” Chiron says, wheeling his chair into the haphazard circle of chairs and couches they created. “I’m sure it’s been a… sad day for you all.” His voice edges a bit sharp on ‘sad’, and Piper rolls her eyes silently. She whispers something to Leo, and the latter giggles before going blank when he notices Chiron’s stare. “Sorry,” he mutters. 

“No need to apologize,” Chiron assures. “Your father was… unconventional in his way of raising you. Distant at best-”

“Cruel at the worst,” Hazel whispers. “Yay, Dad.”

Chiron sighs like he wants to correct her but won’t. “I suggest we take this outside.” He gestures to the urn on the coffee table that no one wants to look at.

Annabeth sighs and contemplates whether or not it’s too late to kill herself with the ornate sword on the mantle.

Ten minutes later finds them outside, shivering in the rain. Decorated with somber black umbrellas, they gather in a loose circle. 

“Would anyone… like to say a few words?”

Annabeth bites her lip. Piper rolls her eyes again. Clarisse looks like she’s trying not to punch something. 

To all of their surprise, Will steps forward. “Dad may not have been the best parent,” Will says. “But he did give us something. He gave us this. This stupid dysfunctional family. We all act like we hate him for it, but…” He trails off and brushes a curl out of his eye. “I only have you because of him, and he may have been an ass but he… he gave us this.” Despite the lame ending, the rest of them are rather moved. 

Annabeth nods, glancing at Percy before she can stop herself. He’s already looking back. 

His lip ring quivers as he shivers from the cold.

Annabeth snaps back to the urn in Jason’s hand, and watches as he dumps it out rather unceremoniously. It doesn’t float away with the wind like in the movies she’s seen, it just… falls to the ground in a heap. 

Nico laughs. It’s rather bitter and sharp. “Alright. That’s it, I’m going in.”

Jason frowns. “Why?”

Nico’s already walking back. “Inside, it is warm and dry and there’s food, so that’s where I want to be.”

Leo grimaces, then flashes a peace sign. “Me too, I’m out.” He turns around, stomping through the rain after Nico.

Slowly, all the others begin to turn in, until it’s just Jason, Will, Percy, Annabeth, and Chiron left in the freezing cold. 

“He wasn’t a good man,” Annabeth murmurs. 

“No,” Percy says equally as quiet. “But he’s the reason I have you. So, I can’t hate him too much.” His serious expression breaks, and he shoots her a wink. “I’m the best you’re ever gonna get, sweetheart.”

Annabeth scoffs. “Puh-lease. I could do better than you.”

“Oh could you now?”

She balances a hand on her hip. “Two-thousand-sixteen Brendon Urie called, he wants his look back.”

“How dare you!” Percy gasps. “Alright, Lara Croft told me the same thing.”

Annabeth splutters. “I do not look like Lara Croft!”

“Annabeth, you’re wearing grey skinny jeans, combat boots, and a tank top in the middle of fucking November. You look like Lara Croft. The denim jacket doesn’t hide anything.”

Chiron gives them a warning glance, so Annabeth grabs Percy by the sleeve and yanks him forward. “We’ll take this inside Chiron, don’t worry.” She drags him across the courtyard and shoves him through the front door. 

Percy stumbles into the house and immediately wheels on her. “I will break your arm.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh you _wish."_ She pushes him towards the living room. “Now move, I want vodka.”

Leo’s beat her to it; he slams a bottle onto the coffee table. “We don’t have vodka, but we have scotch.”

Annabeth grabs the bottle and flicks off the top, sending it ricocheting around the room. “Then I shall become an old white man. Cheers, everyone!” She takes a swig, wincing at the rich burning taste, and hands the bottle to Percy. He does the same and passes it to Frank.

Frank politely passes, and gapes at Hazel when she takes a small sip.

“Just for calming reasons,” she mutters. “Besides, it’s not every day your dad dies.”

Piper’s face spoils, and she swallows down an enormous sip when the bottle gets to her. “Hard to even call him 'dad'.” She hands the bottle to Jason, expecting him to abstain, but he takes a hearty swig.

“Can’t honestly believe the old fucker is dead,” Nico admits. 

Annabeth shrugs. “Well then, why don’t you talk to him?”

Nico takes a sip, then hands the bottle to Will. “I can’t just call him up and say 'Hey, Dad, can you stop playing chess with Caligula and come and talk to me for a second?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and to his right, Will hands the bottle to Clarisse. 

“I don’t see why you can’t do that.”

“You don’t have all the facts.”

Annabeth sighs. “And they are?”

“I hate him.” Nico crosses his arms. His head snaps to his right, glaring at someone no one else can see. “I don’t care if he was a ‘well-intending person’ he was still a sick son of a bitch even until his death.” Nico looks mildly offended by something the ghost does, so he crosses his arms again. “Whatever. Maybe. I’ll think about it. But I’m kind of getting drunk right now.”

“Then just get more drunk,” Piper suggests, taking a drink then handing the bottle to Jason again. 

“That’s it,” Jason insists. The cap flies from the other side of the room right into the palm of his hand.

“Wait, no!” Piper cries, but Jason’s already screwed the cap on and made the bottle float away. It comes to rest on the shelf above the fireplace. 

“No more drinking,” he insists. 

Piper pouts, and spins around on the couch. She drapes her legs across the back, hanging upside down. The top of her head brushes the floor, and her amber hair splays across the wood. “Why are we still here?”

Percy props his feet up on the coffee table. “Good question. Anybody want to answer?”

Silence.

“Alright,” Clarisse grunts, standing up. “I’m out.”

“Come on,” Hazel pleads. “We only see each other for weddings and funerals, can’t we make the most of this?”

“Make the most of a funeral?”

Hazel waves her hand. “You know what I mean. Please?”

“No,” Clarisse grunts, stomping the rest of the way to the front door. “Sorry, but no.” She yanks it open, and blue light floods through the entryway. 

Percy stands. Piper sits right side up. Frank knocks over a lamp.

“Guys?” Clarisse says, her voice uncharacteristically weak. “You… might wanna come see this.”

Annabeth scrambles up from the couch, Percy hot on her heels. All ten of them pour out of the front door, expecting all hell. 

It’s not hell. It’s just…

A giant blue amorphous shape of pulsing light in the middle of the courtyard. 

“What the…”

“Fuck,” Nico finishes Will’s sentence. “What the fuck.” He turns to the rest of them. “What the fuck?”

He probably would have kept repeating it if Annabeth hadn’t interrupted him. “Has anyone ever seen anything like this?”

Something red and heavy sails past her shoulder, right through the flickering blue light. With a pop, the fire extinguisher disappears. 

“Piper!” Jason chides.

“Sorry! It’s not like you were doing anything!”

The light expands, increasing in brightness and volume, until it’s blindingly blue. Annabeth squints, covering her eyes. Percy’s hand tightens in her own. 

And just like that, the light is gone.

She opens her eyes slowly, hand still clenched in Percy’s. 

The name slips out of her mouth before she can realize, before she can stop it. 

“Thalia?”

* * *

Thalia reaches up, pushing choppily cut black hair behind her ear. 

“Thals?” Jason echoes. 

Thalia’s face breaks out into a ragged grin. “Jace,” she laughs. Jason’s tugged forward at an alarming rate as Thalia sweeps him into a hug. 

“It’s good to see you, little brother,” she murmurs into his hair. “I missed you.” She looks up, eyes scanning over the others. “All of you.” 

Jason slumps backwards after she releases him, staring at his sister like she just hung the moon. “Where… where have you been?”

“All in good time,” Thalia drawls. She looks exhausted. “Now, I’m gonna go get a decent cup of coffee.”

She slides into the house through the main doors, leaving the rest of them shocked silent.

“Hang on a second,” Annabeth gasps, running after her adoptive sister. “Where- hang on- where were you?”

“The future,” Thalia answers, throwing open cabinets. “It sucked.” She pulls out a mug with an umbrella on it and scowls. “Would it kill Dad to ever be off-brand?”

Piper’s eyes flick from Thalia to Annabeth. She makes a confused face and bugs out her eyes. Even nonverbally, it’s clear what she’s saying. What the hell is she talking about?

With eleven of them in the kitchen, it’s beyond cramped. Thalia shoves past Frank to get to the coffee maker Annabeth smuggled in when she was seventeen. She kneels; it’s hidden below the sink. 

Guess they don’t need to hide it anymore. 

Thalia pulls out filters and a grinder, tossing them to the countertop. She rummages deeper, head completely inside the cabinet. 

“Thals… what are you looking for?” Percy asks. 

“Coffee beans,” Thalia shouts, voice slightly muffled.

“We, uh,” Annabeth says. “We don’t have any.”

Thalia pulls her head out of the cabinet and scowls. “Why the fuck not?”

Annabeth shrugs sheepishly. “None of us have lived here in years.”

Thalia stands, sighs, and yanks open the fridge. She pulls out orange juice and chugs it straight from the carton. “Shoulda figured,” she gasps when she’s done, slamming the carton down on the counter and wiping her upper lip with her sleeve. “Ughh, that’s good.”

Annabeth snaps. “Fucking hell, Thals, where were you?”

Thalia rolls her eyes and tosses the orange juice back in the fridge. “I wanted to prove to dad that I could generate enough electric energy to create a multi-dimensional time-jumping thunderstorm.”

Jason’s eyes bug. “That’s…”

“Really fucking hard, I know,” Thalia cuts him off. “And I did it- but I lost control.” She looks down, almost ashamed. “I got stuck in the future. Wanna know what I found?”

Everyone looks at her, entranced, and Thalia sighs again.  
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing but rubble and fire and shit.” She glances around the kitchen, biting on her lip. “Does anyone have anything stronger than orange juice?”

Jason waves his hand, and the bottle of scotch flies into the room. Thalia catches it without even looking. “Salud,” she mutters, flicking off the cap and taking a swig. She shudders, blinks, and coughs. “Jesus, what the fuck is in this?”

“Old white man fuel,” Piper explains.

Thalia looks down at the label and sneers. “You’ve got nothing better than scotch?”

“THALS.”

“Right,” Thalia mutters. “When I got there, the apocalypse was fresh. New. I found newspapers, intact newspapers. They couldn’t have been more than a few days old.”

“What was the date?” asks Hazel fervently. 

Thalia makes a face that’s something in between fed up and fearful. “Nine days from today.”

“NINE DAYS?”

“The apocalypse happens in nine days?”

“I’m never going to see that Black Widow movie after all.”

“What the fuck?”

“Everybody SHUT UP!” Annbeth commands. She whips back around. “How do we stop it?”

The brunette shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

For the first time ever, Thalia sounds defeated.

“Thals,” Jason asks, in a voice softer than she’s heard in years. “How long were you in the future?”

“Eleven years,” Thalia mumbles. 

“You… you went missing n-nine years ago,” Jason stutters. “You’re older than me?”

Thalia’s face breaks into a shy smile. “You bet, boyo.”

“I can’t believe you’re back,” he mutters. “I can’t believe…”

“I’m back,” she assures. “And I’m here to stay. But we’ll all be dead if we don’t stop this apocalypse, I saw it. I saw you.”

“You saw us... dead?”

Thalia nods again. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was you at first, but then I saw the tattoos. You were… half buried under rubble.” She looks around the room like she’s just realizing. “Wait.” she bites her lip and almost looks afraid of her question. “Where’s Bianca?”

The silence is telling enough. 

Thalia blinks, and lets out a little noise she doesn’t seem to realize she makes. She grabs the bottle like it’s a lifeline, pouring scotch down her throat.

No one says anything for a long time. 

“How did you get back?”

Thalia’s remorseful and reminiscent expression melts off, and is replaced by a stiff one. “Doesn’t matter now. I’m back.”

“Okay,” Annabeth mutters, mind going a mile a minute. 

Where has she been, over those long nine years? When they all prayed for her to come back someday?

Well, she knows where she went. The thing is, if Thalia could get back, how come she didn’t do it sooner? Why did she wait eleven years?

Annabeth wants desperately to voice these questions, but the look on Thalia’s face is something she’s never seen before. 

Thalia’s scared. Thalia never gets scared, not ever. No matter what happened, she’s always been the strong one who pushed them forward, who raised Jason to do the same.

If that girl is scared- then she is too. And it doesn’t matter how Thalia got here, what matters is she’s back now, and she’s here to stay. What matters is they’ll never lose her again.

Annabeth wraps her in a hug before she can think about it, blonde hair clashing with black as she clutches Thalia tight. “I’m glad you’re back,” she mutters into her sister’s ear.

“Me too,” Thalia whispers. 

They part awkwardly, and Annabeth smooths out invisible wrinkles in her jeans. Her tank top suddenly feels too revealing, and she tugs on the green army jacket that’s tied around her waist.

“Well then,” she says. “We should get to work, right?”

Thalia’s look is thankful and understanding. “Yeah,” she answers. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Two hours later finds them in various states of denial, anger, and drunkenness.

“I’m just saying,” Piper slurs. “We should just. Fuckin. Leave. Go to the moon. Whatever destroys the world is connected to us, right? If we leave,” she makes explosion motions with her fingers. “Nothing happens.”

“No. No,” Annabeth repeats for the fifth time. “We can’t just leave, Pipes.”

“Why not?” she whines. “Leo, come on, back me up here. Leo.” Piper squints. “Leo?”

“He’s asleep,” Hazel whispers. “Shhhhhhh.”

“Oh. Well, still. Let’s go to the moon!”

“No,” Annabeth and Jason say at the same time. 

Annabeth rolls her eyes, falling back against the couch. Across the floor, Percy’s hanging upside down from the railing, almost twelve feet from the ground. He’s dangling by his legs, knees wrapped around the rail. 

“Percy, get down,” she scolds. The few gulps of scotch from a few hours ago are fading, leaving her with no tipsy shield and a slight headache. 

Percy scows, then leans up like he’s doing a sit up and unhooks one leg from the wall. He cartwheels through the air, flipping with the precision of a gymnast and sticking the landing. 

Piper claps. 

She’s very, very drunk. Jason tried to get her to stop drinking an hour ago, but just gave up. She kept charming him to stop moving the bottle, and after an hour of aborted movements and magic words he let Piper have it. 

When Annabeth gets drunk she gets giggly. When Piper gets drunk, she gets dumb. 

Percy’s not completely drunk though, small mercies. Whenever he gets drunk, he turns into a total daredevil. There’s a reason he’s banned from using fire escapes. 

But that’s a story for another day. 

Percy thumps over, combat boots squeaking across the well-oiled hardwood. “Got anything?”

Thalia looks at him like she’d truly enjoy watching him bleed out. “Nothing yet,” she says through her teeth. “Anything you’d like to share with the class, Aquaman?”

“Shut up, you emo electrical storm.”

Piper giggles drunkenly, and Annabeth drops her face into her hands. 

It’s going to be an interesting nine days.


	2. What's The Fun In Being Mature?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hangovers are dealth with. Family breakfasts are kickass. Annabeth fucks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet i back
> 
> lowkey interims are finally over thank FUCK have i mentioned i hate school

That night, Annabeth can’t sleep.

It’s a communal decision that they stay in the house together- they don’t have time to go to their separate apartments and come back. And there’s something slightly romantic about spending the night in her childhood room.

This is the room she grew up in. This is the room she drew and drew and drew in, using rulers and protractors and the bottoms of her water bottles to get perfect circles.

She built herself a house in this room. She built herself a hundred houses, a hundred different lives, all of them fake and two dimensional.

...maybe it isn’t really romantic at all.

But this room has good memories. When she had her first nightmare ever, about the man she hit on the head while fighting a robbery at the bank. He never saw her coming, he didn’t have a chance to surrender. The nightmare wasn’t the good part, the good part was when Thalia heard her crying and came and held her until her tears dried. How Thalia said she wouldn’t let anything touch her, not ever.

She and Percy got drunk for the first time in this room. She smiled the most in this room. Percy dyed his hair for the first time in this room. (They really should have gone to the bathroom, her duvet was slightly green for weeks.)

Annabeth tosses and turns and eventually manages to fall asleep.

* * *

The next morning, she wakes up to the smell of coffee.

“The fuck?” she mumbles. Her duvet is all twisted around her legs, and she almost falls out of bed before she can tighten it. She then remembers where she is- her old home. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Morning, Annie.”

“Don’t call me that,” she mumbles out of instinct. Annabeth looks up blearily. “How… are you already dressed?”

If anything, he’s dressed to the nines. Blue-streaked hair soft and stringy from a recent shower, his look complete with black skinny jeans, combat boots, a ripped blue t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. She’s still getting used to how sharp his words are when he wears that lip ring.

“Some of us don’t sleep till eleven,” Percy chides.

“I slept till eleven?” Annabeth sits straight up and then turns a beet red when she realizes she’s only wearing a bra. “Uh. Turn around please?”

Percy rolls his eyes and turns around, leaning against the doorframe. “You know, I’ve seen you in a bra before.”

Annabeth snorts. “You mean that coffee-disaster where I only had one shirt on that horrible camping trip? Yeah. I’d rather not repeat that.”

“Suit yourself.”

Annabeth tugs on her clothes from yesterday, and taps Percy on the shoulder when she’s decent. He turns around and offers her his arm like they’re in the seventeenth century. Annabeth smacks it away.

“Come on,” she offers. “I smell coffee, and I’m starving.” Her look holds a silent challenge, one Percy accepts. They take off at the speed of light, running pell-mell towards the banister.

They tumble down the stairs like they’re kids again, with an accompanying cacophony of yells while racing to see who gets there first. Piper bursts out of the kitchen, waving around a paring knife. “WHERE’S THE FIRE!” she screams.

Annabeth and Percy are stunned silent.

Piper deflates, the hand with the knife in it falling to her side. “Oh. It’s just you two.”

“Annabeth and Percy are up!” Leo yells.

The kitchen is a mess, and it makes Annabeth smile.

Hazel’s perched on the counter, jars, and cans all around her. She tosses a pinch of something into the mixing bowl on her lap and stirs, all the while humming a little tune. She cracks eggs into a smaller bowl, and a metal fork resting on the counter floats up of its own accord and begins to beat the eggs. Once they’re done, one of the pans flies to the burner and Hazel turns the knob, letting the flames rise before grabbing the bowl of beaten eggs and pouring them in.

She’s missed the sight of Hazel’s casual powers.

Jason, too. Orange juice and toast fly around him as he directs the toast to a plate and the juice to a cup. He pours a second cup and hands it to Piper, a shy smile on his face.

Piper thanks him and winces at the bright light, clearly nursing a hangover.

Will’s the only one out of them who has some kind of normal breakfast set-up. He’s sitting at the table reading while desperately trying to eat bacon without looking where his food is going.

He’s failing. It keeps falling off his fork and back onto his plate.

Clarisse is nowhere to be found. Nico’s banging on the coffee machine, frowning at it spectacularly.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Hazel says. “Neeks, don’t break it.”

“It won’t give me my coffee,” Nico growls. “I went out and bought coffee beans and now it won’t give me the coffee!”

Hazel promptly leans over and presses a single button; coffee streams out in a thin brown drizzle into Nico’s mug.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Thanks.”

Thalia, Frank, and now Leo, Piper, and Jason are all sat down at the table by Will. Leo’s insisting he doesn’t need a toaster, and when his powers inevitably overflow he also insists he likes his toast charred black. Frank and Thalia are arguing over the Star Wars sequels, (Thalia insists nothing is as good as the originals, but Frank counters with the fact she hasn’t even seen them yet.)

Annabeth glides through the familiar mess, stealing a rasher of bacon off Will’s plate and chewing on it hungrily.

“Hey!” he cries, frowning and pulling his bacon closer.

Annabeth shrugs. “It’s not like you were managing to eat it anyway.”

Will scowls and returns to his book.

She and Percy integrate into the chaos, taking their places beside Thalia and Frank respectively. Percy steals a bite of eggs off of Hazel’s plate, and she scolds him but gives a quarter of her breakfast to him nevertheless.

Clarisse slips into the room, soaked with sweat, and still clad in workout clothes. She grabs the orange juice from the fridge and takes a swig straight from the carton.

The silence is deafening. Hazel doesn’t meet anybody’s eyes. Nico taps his fingernail on the table. Leo accidentally sets fire to the table cloth and quickly smothers it with his hands.

Percy speaks again, “Unpopular opinion- what if you caused it?”

The table erupts in a hubbub, and Percy holds up a hand. “What I mean,” he clarifies, “is what if in trying to stop the apocalypse, we actually end up causing it?”

“The problem we need to solve is how,” Annabeth insists. “What kind of force could lay waste to the entire planet?”

Compared to the cacophony before, the silence echoing now is deafening.

“None of us have that type of raw power,” Piper murmurs. She’s more serious than Annabeth’s seen all day. “Literally. None of our powers cause that type of destruction. Even Leo and his fire, it’s… it’s not explosive. None of us are… bombs. Does anyone get it?”

There’s silence until Hazel nods. “Like, I can move metal and stuff, but I can’t make it all blow up. All of our powers are about control over something, Percy, Nico, Leo, Jason, me- we’re all about controlling certain elements or just straight up moving stuff. And Annabeth, you can’t destroy anything, just make yourself invisible, and same with Clarisse. I’m pretty sure she can’t just smash the world apart, so it couldn’t be any of us.”

Piper lets her head fall to the table. It lands with a dull thunk.

“It could be me.”

All nine heads turn to Thalia.

“What?” Leo asks.

Thalia rubs her hands together nervously. “You- you didn’t see me making the storm when I first went into the future. It was… I almost ripped apart an entire forest. What if I rip apart the entire world? And what if I caused it by coming back and…” She stops, her face pales. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m the bomb.”

Will reaches over and rests a hand on her wrist. “You’re not the bomb,” he assures, in that strangely compelling way of his. “I know you, Thalia. We all do. We know you would never do that.”

“You don’t know shit,” Annabeth snaps. She scratches her knuckles at her temples and sighs. “Look, Will, I’m sorry but you don’t have a power. You don’t know what it’s like to not be able to control yourself!”

Will frowns. “Maybe I don’t have a power but you don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

Percy’s gaze snaps to Will, pale fire in his green eyes, and Will shakes his head.

“No,” he snaps, standing so abruptly he bumps into the table. “I’m not dealing with you.”

“Hey!” Annabeth snaps. “What d’you mean, not dealing with us? This is a family matter, Will, you can’t just walk out-”

“Yeah!” the blond shouts. “Family. Matter. You’ve made it pretty clear I’m not your family.”

“Come on, Will,” Percy grits through his teeth. “Stop being dramatic and-”

“I’m not being dramatic!” he all but yells. “You-you're the one who can’t hear a single bad word about Annabeth, even if she’s being a total bitch-”

Percy’s hand shoots out, grabbing Hazel’s butterknife and with a blink of an eye, he has it to Will’s throat.

To Will’s credit, he’s not even phased. There’s a small twitch in his eye though, a little flick of his iris that betrays a smidgeon of fear. “See?” he whispers.

“Percy, get off,” Annabeth snaps. Piper bangs her head on the table again. Frank looks like he’s starting to consider suicide via coffee mug.

Percy looks away, releasing Will and tossing the knife back on the table. It clatters against Will’s plate, the sound uncomfortably loud through the silence.

Will walks out of the room.

There’s another squeak of wood on the tile as Nico stands up, shaking his head. “You’re both assholes, you know that?” His voice is small, quavering the tiniest bit at the end, and he stomps out of the room the same as Will.

Piper takes a sip of Jason’s orange juice. “Nice going, guys.”

“What!” Annabeth cries. “He doesn’t know what it’s like-”

“Maybe not, but you don’t have to treat him as lesser because of it-”

“I wasn’t!”

“You so were, Jesus Christ, you talked to him like he was dirt under your shoe!” Piper slams Jason’s glass down and kicks her chair out from beneath her, it clatters to the floor on its side. “You know what, Annabeth? Maybe you start the apocalypse, with your horrible people skills.”

She spins around and stomps out of the kitchen.

No one speaks. There’s orange juice on the ceiling. Frank seems to be reconsidering his suicide plan.

“Fuck,” Annabeth mutters. She slams her palm on the table. “Fuck!”

Leo chucks his charred toast into the sink. “Cheers, I’ll drink to that bro.”

She gives him a glare so fierce he sits back down.

“Annabeth, you…” Thalia starts. “You were a little hard on him. Just saying.”

Annabeth’s face spoils, and she sneers. “Oh, not you too.”

“Annabeth,” Thalia says. “Annabeth, wait. Annabeth!”

She marches out of the kitchen, cheeks bright pink. Her fists are clenching, and she wants to punch something.

She passes Nico on the way to the stairs. He’s sitting on the couch next to the Will, with the latter’s head on his shoulder. Nico’s glare is ice cold. He flicks her off behind Will’s back then turns his gaze away.

Annabeth groans quietly and stomps up the stairs.

“Annabeth,” Percy calls. “Annabeth, hang on.”

She’s up to the second floor before she responds. “What, Percy!”

For once, her friend looks like he doesn’t know what to say. “I…” he starts. “Maybe we should all just… talk about this?”

Her heart falls. “Not you too.”

“Annabeth. Annabeth!”

She’s in her room and slamming the door before she has to hear him say a word more. The lock clicks and Annabeth lets her head fall against the wall with a dull thump.

* * *

Annabeth’s wallowing on her bed (that’s way too short for her, by the way) when the window flies open.

“Annabeth?”

It’s Percy.

She doesn’t want to talk to him, so… she disappears.

Lying flat on the bed is her best option. She bites her lip and tries to quieten her breathing while Percy drops into her room from the windowsill. “Annabeth,” he murmurs. “I know you’re in here.”

His eyes scan over the room, and they lock onto her bedspread for a fraction of a second. Annabeth looks down in a panic- yes, she still can’t see her body. There’s no reason he should know she’s there.

Percy sighs, shrugs, and turns to the door. Annabeth lets out a sigh of relief.

With the accuracy of a trained fighter, Percy spins around and launches onto the bed. “Hah!” he yells.

Annabeth screams and reappears. “Percy!” she cries.

“I knew you were there.”

“You didn’t,” she insists.

Percy grins. “I totally did.” He rolls off, lying on the bed next to her. “So. Temper tantrum. Want to talk about it?”

“It wasn’t-” Annabeth scoffs. “It wasn’t a temper tantrum.”

Percy’s eyebrows rise so high they’re partially obscured in his mess of jet black hair. “Yeah. Right.”

“I didn’t!”

The silence fills her ears until they overflow. “Ok, maybe I had a little temper tantrum. But Will doesn’t get it! He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a power, he doesn’t know-”

“But he does know abandonment,” Percy says softly. “He knows what it’s like to grow up alone, because he did. And that’s exactly how Thalia lived for the past eleven years. Alone. So I think… he does know what it’s like. Maybe even better than you.”

Annabeth curls up into a little ball on the duvet, intentionally curving her back to Percy. “Will didn’t grow up alone.” Her voice is muffled by the pillow.

“He wouldn’t have if we’d just accepted him,” Percy murmurs. “If we hadn’t practically exiled him from our group.”

She doesn’t want to admit it, but deep in her heart, she knows. “I need to apologize, don’t I?”

“I think you should,” Percy admits. “But it has to be your decision, you know? It can’t be… fake.”

Despite the heavy subject of their chat, a small smile breaks out on Annabeth’s face. “Whoever would have thought you’re actually wise?”

“Hey,” he warns. “You’re on thin fucking ice already, Chase.”

Her smile melts off. “I know.” Annabeth uncurls herself and sits on the edge of her bed. “I’m gonna go apologize.”

Percy grins and gives her a gentle shove towards the direction of the door. “Don’t forget, we all still have to stop the apocalypse.”

She grimaces. “Of course.”

Percy flips up off the bed and exits her room behind her. He turns towards his own room, and she turns right towards Will’s. She knocks on the door, three solid raps, then steps back.

It flies open a second later. She shouldn’t be surprised that Nico’s there, and that he doesn’t want to let her in. “I just want to apologize,” Annabeth says in one breath. “What I said was shitty, and… I want to say sorry.”

Nico looks at her begrudgingly. “You can say sorry from here.”

“Nico, just let her in.”

“Fine,” Nico huffs. “But I’m out.” He backs out of the room, and Annabeth steps in.

Will’s sitting on his bed, looking relatively untroubled. He’s got a book propped up on his lap. “The others are downstairs, if you want to go back to discussing the end of the world. I’m obviously not special enough to participate.”

“Will, I’m here to apologize.”

The blond looks up to her, closing his book and setting it off to the side. “Annabeth, I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean. I know that I don’t have a power, so you do know what it’s like but-”

“You grew up all alone just like Thalia did,” she finishes softly. “All because we wouldn’t include you.”

“You were kids,” he says. “It wasn’t-”

“Yeah, but now we’re adults,” Annabeth insists hotly. “We should be better. I’m not- I’m not some petty little pre-teen anymore, but I act like it, especially to you, and that isn’t right!” She realizes she’s starting to rant, and presses her instincts down. “I just came here to say I’m sorry, and- and you have just as much say in this family as any of us.” She shrugs, a tiny grin creeping on her face. “Besides, I owe you for that one time.”

To her delight, Will lets out a small grin in response. “You certainly do.” He sighs, scrunching up his nose and tossing his book across the room. It lands next to a stack of them below his ever-overflowing bookcase. “Nico’s gonna hate you for at least a week.”

Annabeth purses her lips. “I was afraid of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time on hsow: the team takes a trip to our favorite prosthetics company!


	3. Sometimes, You Just Need To Cosplay The Grim Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's posh as fuck, Thalia's a little stressed, and Percy does a pro gamer move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IT'S BEEN THREE WEEKS IM REALLY FREAKIN SORRY
> 
> school is a goddamn nightmare. my physics teacher teaches in the a way that, for and adhd kid, makes it practically impossible to learn and LDJFLKAJPSJFLKDSJFLKAJDJLJ I CANNOT WITH THIS SHIT FUUCKCKKKKK
> 
> anyway
> 
> uh
> 
> i also got sucked into another wip (I KNOW, I KNOW, I'M SORRY) but I PROMISE this fic will be finished, you just gotta give me time. It might be four months, it might be six months, it might be a year, who fucking knows. Yes, I do plan to go into the second season with this fic/series. (ngl i planned out the whole s2 character plot the two seconds after i got this idea)
> 
> the wip, in case any of you want to know, is a 100 solangelo au. Meaning pjo characters in the 100. It will be a while before it comes up, cuz I gotta finish this fic first. If you're reading this fic, you'll probably like that one too. (sneak peak- heda!nico and medic!will)
> 
> ok, uh, that's it.
> 
> YOU CAN GO READ NOW IM SORRY

“You know, I’m surprised you even came around and apologized,” Piper babbles. “I figured you’d just wait the day out and we’d all forget it and move on. Like always.”

They’re helping with the cleanup from breakfast. Apparently, after she left, there wasn’t much enthusiasm to clean up. Percy’s at the sink, striking soapy water into a whirlpool so strong Piper needs only to stick the pan in for a second before it’s wiped clean. Frank, Leo, and Hazel are variously lounging- well, Leo’s lounging on the counter, whilst Frank and Hazel are sitting properly in chairs.

Will stands by the dishwasher, methodically putting away glasses and mugs despite the fact Jason could do it with the flick of his wrist. Nico’s perched on the counter next to him, tapping the countertop with his surprisingly long nails while shooting her a death glare.

Annabeth shrugs. “But before we didn’t have the end of the world on our to-do list, so… yeah.”

“Honestly, this family can’t go one day without losing their shit,” Hazel groans. Percy waves his hand, and the whirlpool of water dissipates and pours down the drain.

Jason sends a plate flying into the cabinet. “But there’s nothing more family bonding than cleaning up together!” he says in an overly chipper voice.

Piper snorts. “I can’t honestly figure out if that was supposed to be sarcastic or not.”

Thalia speaks up, “Are we ever gonna talk about it or not?”

A moment of silence muffles the energy in the kitchen, and Annabeth sighs. “I don’t know what else there is to talk about!” she cries. “Look, we don’t know who causes the apocalypse. There’s just nothing we can do.”

Thalia winces and rests something on the table.

Everyone peers down, and Annabeth’s the first one to recognize what it is. “Ugh!”

“That was my only lead.” Thalia sighs. “I found this… um, I found this in Jason’s hand in the future.”

Jason looks appalled.“My… what?”

“Your hand. You were dead and it was in your hand.”

Leo shudders. “I’m still getting used to the whole ‘we were all dead’ thing.”

“How come you didn’t tell us?” Hazel asks. “About the eye?”

Thalia shrugs. She looks uncomfortable in her own skin, squirming and wincing like it’s not something she wants to think about. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was a big thing. For a while I thought whoever had this eye must have caused the apocalypse, but… it just doesn’t seem probable.”

Frank frowns. “Why not?”

“The amount of power it would take… well, I figured it was one of us.”

Percy puts both of his hands on the table. “And you didn’t think to tell us any of this during the day and a half we’ve been here?”

Thalia shrinks. “I just didn’t… I don’t know.”

“We don’t have time for bickering,” Piper insists. “We need to find whoever owns this eye.”

“There’s a serial number on the back,” Thalia answers. “I already checked the company. Meritech’s Cosmetics.”

Piper bangs on a fist on the table, grinning fiercely. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Hold on a damn second,” Thalia buts in. “You’re not going!”

Piper frowns. “Why not?”

She laughs like the idea is ludicrous. “You’re not going! I’m the one with the eye, so I’ll go.”

Annabeth shakes her head. “That’s bullshit.”

“Seconded,” Percy echoes. “Seriously, Thals, you’ve been back for a day and-”

“I’ve been guarding this eye for years, do you really think I’m going to let all of you take over-”

“We’re not trying to take over!” Piper insists. “And we’re not a bunch of snot-nosed kids anymore, we’re adults who can handle this. You’re only two years older than us, dipshit. I don’t give a shit if you don’t think we’re good enough, we’re going.”

Jason looks up, eyes shifting into pleading as he smiles sheepishly at Thalia. “Please?”

Thalia bites her lip and huffs out a breath impatiently. “Fine. Fine!” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her pointer finger and thumb, signing into her hand. “How many of you are coming?”

Everyone in the room raises their hand.

Thalia groans. “Three tops.”

“I can sit it out,” Frank volunteers.

“Me too,” Hazel relents. “Nico, you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sit down.”

Nico groans and flops into an ornate armchair.

“I’ll stay too,” Will says, dropping onto the couch.

“Of course you will,” Piper mutters under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“Hey,” Thalia calls. “You know what, let me just speed this up. Annabeth, Percy, and Piper- you’re coming.”

“Thals, come on,” Jason whines.

Annabeth snorts. She hasn’t heard Jason whine in ages.

“Sorry boyo,” Thalia apologizes. “I need you here.”

“I can handle myself,” he snips.

“I know you can, that’s why you need to stay.” She leans close and murmurs something in Jason’s ear; he softens and sits dejectedly.

“Right!” Thalia cries. “Off to Meritech.” She stands, brushing invisible dust off her pants.

“Wait- now?” Annabeth asks.

Thalia frowns at her. “Yes, now! The world ends in nine days, Annabeth, we don’t have time to dilly dally!”

Percy snorts, lip ring quivering as he fights laughter.

“Something funny, Percy?” Annabeth snaps sharply.

He sobers under the stone-cold gaze coming from her hard grey eyes and bites his lip. “No ma’am.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and smacks him across the back of the head, ruffling his duo colored hair. “You’re a fucking menace,” she grumbles.

“Thanks. I’ve worked hard for it.”

Thalia looks between the two of them like she’s studying a painting.

Percy squints at her. “What’re you looking at?”

Thalia redirects her gaze and shrugs. “You’re… just different.” She points at Annabeth. “You the most.”

Piper whistles harshly, cutting through the conversation. “Are we gonna get on with this or what?”

Percy and Thalia both fold their arms and glare.

“Wait a minute,” Annabeth asks, eyebrows pursed with confusion. “How are we all going to get there?”

Blank faces stare back at her.

Jason sighs. “Take my car.” He tosses keys at them.

Annabeth catches out of reflex. “Of course you have a car.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re posh as fuck,” Piper inputs helpfully. Jason frowns, and she kisses him on the cheek. “Not bad posh, don’t worry.”

Thalia stares openly. Her bright blue eyes are inquisitive, but the set of her jaw betrays how confused she is. Realization spread across her face like a slow-moving wave, and she blinks and ducks her head. “We should go.”

“No time like the present,” Percy says. “C’mon.” He gets halfway to the kitchen door before spinning around and yelling “Shotgun!” He shoots off like a bullet out of a gun, long legs carrying him far.

“Fucker,” Annabeth mumbles, resigning to race after him. “Piper, you’re driving!”

“Damn you!” She calls, but it’s drowned out by Annabeth’s breathless laugh that echoes along with the pounding of her feet.

Of course, Percy gets to the car first and takes shotgun. Annabeth grumpily slides into the backseat, and Piper comes hurtling out the door a few seconds later. She flops into the driver’s seat with a certain exasperation and jams the keys in the ignition. “Thals? You have an address.”

“Uh-huh,” Thalia says, and rattles off an address. Piper turns the keys, and the engine coughs to life. She turns the wheel hand over hand and pulls into traffic.

While Piper winds through traffic with a surprisingly calm attitude, Thalia stares at the car console.

“It’s touchscreen,” Annabeth says, sensing her confusion. “New thing over the past few years.”

She hides it under a blank expression, but Annabeth can tell that she’s upset. “We’ll stop the apocalypse,” Annabeth assures. “I promise.”

“I’m older than you, shut up.”

It’s good to have Thalia back.

* * *

“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?”

Annabeth grits her teeth, and says for the fifth time, “No, I don’t have an appointment. But I’d like to look up a record on a model of yours, I have the serial number-”

“I’m sorry, you need to book an appointment.” The saccharine in her voice makes Annabeth want to scream, punch her in the face, and then maybe scream some more.

Annabeth turns around before the murder in her eyes extends to her hands, and takes a deep breath. She smiles quietly and forces her face into a sickly sweet apologetic smile. “Have a nice day.”

The secretary nods, barely giving her a second before returning to tap away on her computer with perfectly-manicured nails.

Annabeth marches to where Piper, Percy, and Thalia are sprawled across uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs. Well, Percy and Piper are sprawled, legs intertwined as they sit in probably the weirdest position known to man. Thalia, however, is sitting ramrod straight, her fingers always fidgeting with something- her hair, the cuffs of her jacket, the holes in her jeans.

Annabeth still doesn’t know how she managed to find clothes so quickly. She has a strong suspicion she raided Nico’s closet.

“Bitch won’t let me in,” Annabeth grunts, collapsing into a chair beside Thalia. She hands the eye back gently. Thalia takes it with equally careful fingers. “I need to know who’s eye this is.”

An idea rings like a bell in Annabeth’s head- a stupid, crazy idea. A grin the Grinch would rival creeps across her face. “Is anybody watching?” she murmurs.

Thalia frowns. “What are you planning?”

Annabeth winks and repeats her question. “Is anyone watching?”

Thalia’s eyes sweep the entrance hall. “No, but what are you-”

Annabeth disappears.

Her body morphs into the unseen, and when she looks down there’s not even a warp in the air to give away her position. Annabeth grins, even though no one can see her, and bends down and whispers in Thalia’s ear, “The eye, please. I’m gonna get the file.”

Thalia smiles and slips the eye into Annabeth’s hand. It shimmers and disappears.

“Hurry back,” Thalia whispers, saying goodbye with a tiny nod.

Annabeth waits until someone in a nondescript lab coat walks through the door- she slips through behind them without making a sound.

Her unknowing accomplice leads her towards a group of offices. Annabeth enters one, picking the largest and most ostentatious-looking out of the bunch. A name plaque on the desk reads DR. LENEUS ELDERGOAT. She snorts, feeling for the poor soul who has to deal with that horrid surname.

Annabeth runs her fingers over the plaque gently, cataloging the items on the desk. A fancy engraved fountain pen, high-end laptop, expensive coffee thermos…

Annabeth gently unscrews the lid and waves her hand over the top. It’s still hot.

She quickly screws it back, setting it down carefully as her gaze sweeps over the desk again.

“If I was an overpaid prosthetics doctor,” she murmurs, “where would I put my files?”

Her gaze drops to a wide filing drawer close to the bottom of the desk.

“Gotcha,” she whispers. She pulls the drawer, but it refuses to budge. There’s no key on the desk, and Annabeth sighs. She snatches a paper clip off a little ornamental gold tray and bends it into shape, biting on her tongue in concentration.

Footsteps echo outside the hallway, accompanied by chattering voices, and Annabeth curses. “C’mon,” she mumbles, jamming the paper clip in the lock. She twists the bottom bit, popping open the hammers with almost silent clicks. She wrenches to the side, and the drawer pops open.

“Annabeth: 1. Ostentatious Goat Man: 0.” She pulls the drawer open, and what awaits her makes her jaw drop.

Money. Lots and lots of it. All hard cash and stuffed into battered envelopes. She pulls one out and flips through it.

The door opens, and Annabeth drops the money in the drawer. She kicks it closed and tries to quiet her breathing.

A squat, grey-haired old man waddles into the room, running his hand through his hair. He frowns, ears twisting towards the noise, but seems to dismiss it as nothing more than his mind.

Annabeth narrows her eyes. There’s definitely something suspicious about the money in his drawer. She decides to do something rash.

“Leneus,” Annabeth whispers, doing her best to make her voice sound crackly and menacing. “Leneus.”

The old man jumps so high, he almost impales himself on the coat rack. “Who’s there?”

“Where can I find the records for prosthetic eyes?”

“I- I don’t- please, go away- it’s just the black market, please-!”

“Black market?” She cuts him off. “For what?”

“P-prosthetics,” he trembles.

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Well duh.

She tosses the eye at him. It shimmers as it travels through the air, and by the time it’s halfway there, the eye is visible again. Leneus, still apparently shocked to his core, doesn’t even move. It hits him smack in between the eyes.

In some stroke of luck, he manages to catch it before it hits the ground.

“I need to know the owner of that eye,” she says, pitching her voice low.

“Are…” Leneus leans forward, his jaw trembling wildly. “Are you the Grim Reaper?”

Annabeth smacks a hand over her mouth, but it isn’t enough. She has to bite her tongue viciously to keep back a giggle. “Yes,” she booms, and Leneus quivers like a sapling on a windy day. “I need the owner of that eye.”

“I’ll- I’ll get right to it.” Leneus turns over to a small cabinet by an armchair. He pulls a ring of keys out of his pocket- Annabeth takes this time to silently pocket her now bent paper clip- and unlocks the door. Inside is a safe. He punches in a four-digit code and pulls out a stack of papers.

“Here we go,” he says, voice a little steadier. “This eye…” He squints, then flips the page and flips back. “This eye… hasn’t been sold yet?”

Annabeth pushes back the urge to scream in frustration. “Who will buy it, then?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “It says it hasn’t even been manufactured…” He gazes around the room in fearful wonder. “How did you get this?”

Annabeth’s eyes bug, and she adlibs the first thing she can think of. “None of your business, mortal.” It works like a charm, sending Leneus quivering all over again. “Now get out,” she commands.

He chucks the papers in the safe and scurries out the door like a mouse on the run from a cat.

Annabeth exhales and lets herself turn visible again. She scoops the eye off the floor, sighs, and stuffs it into her pocket.

Great. Another dead end.

* * *

A fire escape, a little parkour, and a couple almost-slipping incidents later, Annabeth’s sitting on a bench at the park. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and sends off a text to Percy.

_To: punk ass dork_

come outside. finished the errand, you’re not going to like what I found. bring thals and pipes.

_From: punk ass dork_

omw

She’s chewing on her fingernails when Percy arrives. Piper and Thalia trail behind him. “What is it? You said it was bad?”

Annabeth sighs, face stretching into an ironic grin. “The eye hasn’t been made yet. They don’t know who it’s going to be sold to.”

Thalia exhales. “Fuck.”

Percy looks down at the glass eye obscured by her fingers. “How did you figure it out?”

Annabeth shrugs. “Apparently one of the employees is running a black market scheme. He sells prosthetics and covers it up.”

“Again- how did you figure it out? I don’t need to bail you out of jail again.”

“Fucking Christ, that was one time-”

“Hey!” Piper says, clapping her hands. “Annabeth? Just tell us.”

She grins, despite everything. “He thought he met the Grim Reaper. I didn’t care to correct him. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna have a heart attack if he ever figures out it was just an invisible girl.”

Percy guffaws, face stretching into an open-mouthed grin. And all of a sudden they’re both laughing, Percy so hard he has to sit down, and Annabeth actually chokes a couple of times. Passerby look at them like they’re nuts, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

Fuck everything, maybe this is what she’ll miss when the world ends.

* * *

Thalia is silent the whole way home.

Annabeth volunteers to drive. Also known as, Piper drove the way over, she doesn’t know if Thalia’s road skills are any good or even present, and Percy’s a shit driver.

Though again, driving in NYC is less about skill and more about patience.

The weird euphoria that came from before while she was laughing with Percy is gone now, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in its place. Her whole stomach feels empty, like some of her guts recently decided to go on vacation.

Her brain is spinning with a million things at once, what will you do and where will you go and who will you say goodbye to?

For now, it’s a little too much to focus on. So instead, she focuses on the road.

Like she said before, there’s… not much to focus on.

The second they get home, Thalia stomps through the door. Piper slams it behind the four of them, elucidating a startled yelp from the living room.

“Fuck!” Leo cries from his spot on the couch. “Give a guy a little warning, will you?”

“Sorry,” Piper says, rolling her eyes. “Shit isn’t really going well right now.”

“You can say that again,” Annabeth groans. A couple people arrive in the living room, obviously drawn by their… vocal entrance. Annabeth tosses Jason’s keys at him, he catches them with a surprised look. “Did you catch the, uh, apocalypse-starter?”

“No,” Percy grumbles. “The eye hasn’t been bought yet.”

Thalia is eerily silent.

“Oh, fuck," says Nico.

“Tell me about it!” Piper cries. “We just drove through Brooklyn for no goddamn reason. That certainly warrants a couple what-the-fucks, along with the whole apocalypse shebang!”

“SHUT UP!”

Everyone physically steps back.

Thalia stands. Her bright blue eyes are sparkling with rage and agony. Her fists are clenched at her side, and she’s gritting her teeth so hard Annabeth’s sure she’ll grind them to stubs.

She levels a finger at Piper. “My life’s work,” she thunders. “My life’s mission, my _only_ mission, all that time when I was stuck in a hellscape world, was to get back and save all of you. I lived by this clue that I had to pry out of my brother’s _dead hand,_ and when it turns to be all for _nothing,_ you complain about traffic?”

Annabeth swallows. “Thals-”

“DON’T!”

Piper bites her lip. Her jaw trembles. She looks like she’s about to cry.

Except Thalia starts crying first.

Tears drip down her cheeks like glassy pearls. “Everything,” she gasps, “I’ve ever done," she gasps again, "has been for nothing.”

“It hasn’t-”

“IT HAS,” Thalia roars. A flash ricochets across her face, following the tear line down her cheek.

Annabeth strongly believes that if she were to touch one of those tears on Thalia’s cheek, she’d be strongly electrocuted.

As she thinks about it, Thalia’s body begins to vibrate with constrained energy. Tiny tendrils of lightning extend between her fingers like webbed frog hands. Her hair sparkles, and lightning cracks across her eyes.

Annabeth’s never seen someone look so powerful.

“She’s gonna blow,” Jason gasps. “SHE’S GONNA BLOW!”

It takes her a second. A second to realize the electricity is expanding beyond simple jagged slashes across Thalia’s eyes and is beginning to encompass her whole eye. Both begin to glow, straight out of a comic book, and the lightning begins to roll in crackles across Thalia’s body, up and down and arching in and around her.

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!” Annabeth screams. Beside her, Jason reaches out his hands, pulling Piper towards him with his powers.

Annabeth crouches behind an ornate armchair and squeezes her fists tight, fearing the worst. Next to her, Piper and Jason hunker down behind a sofa.

She closes her eyes and braces herself.

...for something that never comes.

Slowly, carefully, she opens her eyes.

Remember when she said Thalia losing control was the most powerful thing she’d ever seen?

Yeah. Scratch that. Someone’s bumped their way into the number one spot.

It’s almost ethereal, the way he stands. Hands outstretched, palms to Thalia, fingers curved slightly with effort. Flickering voltage light is projected onto his lithe legs, olive face, and reflects off his leather jacket.

Percy stands with the strength of a soldier and with power like nothing she’s ever seen in her life. His face is a mask of concentration, teeth ground together and eyes narrowed in a mix of determination and pure drive.

Around Thalia is a dome of water, lemon-peel thick. Inside, Thalia flickers like a faulty lightbulb, if a faulty lightbulb could produce thousands upon thousands of watts like she is. Electricity arcs around her, pounding against the aquatic cage like an animal desperate to be freed.

The lighting strikes grow fewer and fewer, and eventually, they stop entirely. Without the echoing crackles of lightning, it's eerily quiet. Inside, Thalia stops quivering with pure power and crumples to the floor, completely spent.

The water dome falls.

It’s like she’s watching in slow motion- it splashes everywhere, all over her, but she doesn’t care. It crashes against the floorboards, soaking the rugs and the furniture with a sugar-spun thin tsunami wave.

Percy drops to the floor, out cold.

And suddenly, nothing else really matters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time on hsow: feelings? who are they? (annabeth's about to find out)


	4. Thalia's Chickens Come Home to Roost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy wakes up. Annabeth gets a little feeling. Something from Thalia's past comes back to haunt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo holy fuck i know i said it wouldn't be another three weeks and... i lied.
> 
> IM SOWWY
> 
> quarter just ended so everything was nuts for about two weeks (gUESS WHO GOT A B IN PHYSICS WHOOHOO) and i didn't have much time to write. I think you guys are gonna like this chapter tho ;)
> 
> and we had an assignment for english and my teacher was like 'how do you write like this? how? do you read many books?' and i'm just *nods furiously* yes books its books not entire fucking novels i'm typing about characters that already exist not that
> 
> lol you can read now GO!

She slides to him before she knows what she’s doing.

Water soaks through any dry patches left in her jeans, but she pays the cold no mind. She grabs for Percy, turning him over.

He looks… alright. His eyes are closed, and his skin isn’t pallid or burned from electricity. Her hysteria isn’t fully gone, though. Annabeth jabs two fingers into his neck, searching furiously for a pulse. She finds one in seconds and practically melts in relief.

Behind her, someone arrives. Curly blond hair fills her vision for a second as Will bends over Percy, tilting his head to the side.

“He has a pulse,” Annabeth sobs. “He has a pulse.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Will says, sounding like he’s surprising himself. Nico is by his side. She doesn’t know when, or how, but she looked down and looked up and he was just… there.

Yeah, there have been a few times she’s thought Nico was some kind of vampire/ghost/evil dark lord hybrid. And now is one of them.

Except Percy is injured.

_Percy._

She’s surprised at how hard it’s affecting her- he’s going to be fine. Normally, she’s not all touchy-feely like this. The truth comes to her in a disappointing wave, of why she’s suddenly feeling this onslaught of emotions.

It didn’t strike her how much she needs him until there was a chance he’d be gone forever.

And he’s not, thank God, but that was too close.

A small cry of pain jolts her from her single-minded state. Annabeth whips her head around.

Piper shakes her hand like it’s covered in disgusting goo, then sticks the tip of her pointer finger in her mouth. “She shocked me,” Piper whimpers.

“Don’t touch her,” Jason advises, already kneeling over Thalia’s still form. He extends a hand and she floats upwards, arms and legs flopping like something out of a bad horror movie. It’s awkward and disturbing seeing Thalia so limp and lifeless.

“Take her upstairs?” Annabeth asks.

Jason nods. He balls his fingers into a loose fist and flicks them out in the direction of the stairs. Thalia hurtles towards them at a good 20mph, zipping around columns and doorways accordingly. If she weren’t so worried about Percy, she’d be mildly concerned.

_Percy._

“I can-” Jason waves his hand, but Annabeth shakes her head.

“No,” she murmurs. “I’ll carry him.”

None of them interrupt her.

Even though Percy is taller than her, (something he bugs her about all the time), she doesn’t have that much trouble carrying him. He’s mostly legs and sass these days, so she can scoop him up with minimal back strain.

And she carries him like that, up the stairs, all the way to his room. His head flops loosely against her chest, and a flicker of sadness drives into her core.

It’s surprising how little this place has changed.

She supposes her room hasn’t really changed either, but she has. Percy has.

It’s alarmingly blue.

She remembers how Percy painted it himself, and got her to help, the result being paint in both of their hair and a stern scolding. The color is rather daunting at first sight, but after a few seconds, it morphs into something a little more peaceful.

She sets Percy down on the bed that’s a little too short for him. She lifts up his chest, peeling off his jacket and draping it over the desk chair.

He looks so peaceful like this. He could be asleep and she’d never know the difference.

But every time she looks at his face, at his dark hair and warm skin, she can’t help but wish for those sea-green eyes to open.

Without anything better to do, she pulls off her denim jacket, tugs off her sneakers, and climbs into bed next to him. She pulls the blankets over the two of them and wriggles her way into a comfortable position.

Percy’s chest is warm. She rests her head against his heart and closes her eyes.

The pounding of a heart that refuses to stop beating lulls her to sleep.

* * *

He wakes first.

There’s shifting underneath her, gentle and soft. Annabeth curls deeper towards the warmth, her mind still in the realm of dreams. “Mmph,” she sighs.

“...ow.”

Annabeth flies up. “Percy!”

“Ow,” he repeats. His green eyes are open but squinting. “My head hurts. And my stomach. And my legs. What…?”

Annabeth feverishly tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Like- Thalia!” He gasps. His chest buckles like he’s trying to sit up.

Annabeth frowns. “You feel like Thalia?”

“No!” Percy cries. “Thalia! Is she ok?”

“Oh!” Annabeth gasps. “She’s fine, Percy. She was just out cold.”

“Is she up yet?”

Annabeth licks her lips. “I… I don’t know. I’ve been staying with you.”

Percy blinks.

Annabeth bites her lip.

“So,” Percy starts. “Ugh.”

“How do you feel?” She asks again. “For real this time?

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Like all my insides have all been microwaved.” He spreads his hands over his face and squishes in his cheeks. It’s adorable. “Is there any permanent damage?”

Annabeth shakes her head, a smile creeping across her cheeks.

“If you make a dick joke right now, I’m slapping you,” Percy insists. His stern look is slightly ruined by the fact he’s lying on a bright blue bedspread. He groans, and tilts his head back. “Help me up?”

“I don’t think-”

“Annabeth, I have held your hair while you've vomited shit vodka, you kind of owe me. Shut up, I’m fine.”

“Fine.” she agrees. “Up and at 'em, Water Boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he slurs, as he wraps an arm around her shoulder. Annabeth holds them both up. Percy stumbles for a minute, lithe legs frail like a baby deer's. He rightens and stands slowly.

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbles. “Remind me to never sleep in skinny jeans again.”

“Noted.” She helps him out the door and to the stairs. Percy grabs onto the ostentatious railing for support.

“Oh, hey,” Leo says. “He’s up?”

“What about Thals?” Annabeth asks as she lets Percy use her as a crutch.

Leo shakes his head. “Still out cold. Will took her pulse and shit, she’s fine.”

“Good,” Percy gasps. The trip down the stairs is taking more out of him than she thought.

“Whoa, hey there cowboy,” she says, as he sways on the spot. “You good?”

“Mmm, peachy.”

“Good to see you haven’t lost your sass,” Leo murmurs. “C’mon, Piper’s making a burnout-breakfast for the resident superheroes.”

“Breakfast sounds good,” Percy groans. He reaches the bottom and has to clench his hand on the banister for a second. Annabeth pats his back awkwardly. He resurfaces, face a little pale and red at the same time. “Ok, I’m good. Lead the way, Princess.”

He hasn’t called her that since they were twelve.

She drags him towards the kitchen (literally, he’s practically hanging off her arm). She dumps Percy on a chair and collapses next to him.

“Ugh,” Percy groans, banging his head on the polished wood. “God, please strike me down.”

Annabeth grabs a handful of his hair and pulls his forehead off the table. “I don’t think you want to do any more damage there.”

“Yeah, you’re dumb enough as it is,” Piper sighs, falling into a seat across the table from them. Percy flips her a weak bird.

“Your finger is shaking,” she says around a mouthful of eggs. “You really did a number on yourself, huh?”

“I want the sweet, sweet release of death.”

“Ah, mood.”

Annabeth snorts and takes a mug of coffee from a surprisingly cherry Will with a nod of thanks.

“Ooh, anxiety juice,” Percy says, making grabby hands. “Gimme.”

She hands it over to him with a sigh. “Someone really is gonna kill you someday.”

“I’ve got a few more years before all the devil-dealing catches up with me, yeah.”

Piper points at both of them. “You two are weird.”

“Thanks,” they say in unison. Percy takes a sip of coffee and does a weird little shudder-thing. Annabeth and Piper both make the same face- a collective what the fuck?- and Percy glares in return. “Don’t judge me, you heathens.”

Piper holds up her hands and shoves her last bite of egg in her mouth. “No judgment either, you’re talking to the ultimate sinner over here.”

“Oh, we know,” Percy mumbles around the lip of his mug. Piper sticks out her tongue and her middle finger.

Jason hands Piper a mug of milky coffee. “Can you two get through one morning without openly insulting each other?”

“Nope,” Piper mumbles around her mug. “Thanks, babe,” she says, scrunching up her nose.

“He’s too good for you,” Percy mutters. Annabeth smacks him across the head, his hair flops for a second. Coffee splashes on the table.

“Don’t be rude,” she says, poking him in the cheek for good measure.

“I hate both of you.” His green eyes are cold as ice, and then his stomach growls. He looks down at it. “And you, too.”

Annabeth laughs so hard she has to go cough over the sink.

* * *

Percy takes another nap after breakfast. He barely manages to stumble up the stairs, and she’s surprised he managed to take off his pants.

She sits on the edge of the bed. “Anything you need?”

“No thanks, doc. I’m good.” He wriggles about again, sighing, then rustles in his bedside drawer for a second and pulls out a bottle about the size of a child’s fist.

Annabeth narrows her eyes. “If those are drugs--”

“Chill,” Percy says, opening the bottle and shaking a pill into his hand. “Sleeping pills. For the nightmares I used to get, remember?

Annabeth looks down. “Yeah.”

“That'll knock me out for a solid six hours,” he says, breaking the pill into halves. He pops one in his mouth and chucks the other back int0 the bottle. He gives her a thumbs up. “See you on the other side.”

Annabeth smiles. She trots down the stairs after making sure Percy’s really asleep.

“He took half a sleeping pill,” she tells the rest of them. “Six hours and he’ll probably be all better again. Is Thalia up?”

A figure with their head on the table raises a hand. “Mmm,” she says.

Annabeth winces, leaning forward. “How’re you doing?”

“Mmm,” Thalia says again.

Annabeth nods and turns back to the others, grinning wryly. “She’s fine.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason says fondly. “She is my sister, even if she’s an idiot.”

Thalia gives him the finger. Hazel coughs out a laugh.

“Good to see nothing’s permanently damaged,” Annabeth says, sitting down across the table. She never actually got breakfast when she was with Percy; Piper tosses her a bagel.

Thalia lifts her head, and Annabeth almost spits bagel all over her.

She’s never seen someone with two different colors rimming their eyes. Black shadows, pallid cheeks, and red rims really make quite the image. Annabeth swallows.

“I know,” Thalia grunts. “It’s not good.”

“Oh, and another thing,” Leo interjects. “While you and Percy were cuddling or whatever-”

Thalia raises her eyebrows.

“-Clarisse came back.”

Annabeth sighs. “Oh, goody.”

“Wait, she left?”

“Yes, she left, what did you think, she was just taking an ultra-long nap in the bathtub?” Leo deadpans. “She’s in the workout room downstairs.”

“Wonderful,” Annabeth sighs. “Fucking fantastic.” She resists the urge to smack something. “Do I have to talk to her?”

“Not for now.”

She slumps. “Thank God.”

There’s a massive crash. Annabeth jumps, then sighs. “Leo, what did you rig to blow this time?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Annabeth and Hazel both give him a matching glare. “Riiiiiight.”

“I’m serious!”

And then, reality explodes.

Three things happen at once. There’s an incessant pop of bullets. Somebody screams, and there’s another crash.

Thalia shoots up. “No,” she whispers.

“You didn’t-” Annabeth murmurs.

“Bullets,” Hazel gasps.

Jason snaps up. “RUN!”

They thunder out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She doesn’t think she’s ever run this fast.

“It’s coming from the bedrooms!” Hazel screams.

She gasps, eyes wide. “Percy.”

Annabeth runs faster.

They take the second set of stairs two at a time. Annabeth slides to a stop at the front of the hallway. Someone’s talking.

“...shoot him!”

“Get out of the way, dumbass!”

Gunshots splinter the air around them and they all cower behind a wall. A familiar figure clothed in black slides across the floor, groaning.

“Do we know those people?” Piper screams.

“Nico!” Jason yells. “Who-”

“I don’t know!” he screams over the bullets. There’s already a bruise forming on his forehead. “They’ve got bulletproof masks and really, really automatic weapons!”

The gunshots stop. Jason pulls Nico up.

He’s breathing heavily. There’s blood amidst the bruise on his face. It drips across his eye; he blinks it away. “Will’s still in the bedroom,” he gasps. “I told him to stay down, he can’t fight-”

“Good call,” Annabeth whispers. “Who-”

A dozen bullets slam into the wall beside them. Jason grabs Nico by the scruff of his neck and hauls him to safety.

“We need to go back downstairs,” Hazel gasps.

“But Will-”

“And Percy!” Annabeth cries.

“We can’t!” Hazel yells over the gunshots. “We have to-”

There’s a roar, and they all watch as four-hundred-pound Siberian tiger skitters across the floor, trailing blood while it’s ferocious jaw is elongated in a growl.

“Frank!” Hazel shrieks. The tiger bounds down the stairs, and bats a paw at them.

“Nico!” Annabeth says, grabbing his wrist. “C’mon, we have to go!”

“But-”

“Come on!” she shrieks over the incessant popping of gunfire. “You can’t save him if you’re dead!” She tells it to herself as much as she tells it to him.

They all clatter back down the stairs, pell-mell. Piper tumbles down the last few, losing her balance after ducking in expectation of more bullets.

“Where do we go?” She gasps, cradling an arm as she stands

“Basement.” Annabeth gasps. “Thalia- Thalia!”

Thalia groans, her eyelids flickering. “Can’t,” she slurs. “Gotta sit down-”

“No!” Jason says, hauling her towards the basement stairs. “Stay aw-”

She passes out.

“Fuck,” Jason swears. 

“Coat closet,” Annabeth says. “Here.”

“What?”

“Best option!” she yells, wiping a hand across her forehead. “Basement, lets--”

On her left, a lamp shatters. Tiny puffs of cotton rise into the air from punctured seat cushions, and the marble floor splits beneath her feet. Everyone’s screaming around her, throwing themselves flat on the ground to avoid the bullets.

She’s dead. For sure, she’s dead.

But… she’s not?

Annabeth looks up, and there’s Jason.

Blood runs down the side of his face, maybe from shrapnel, and he holds both palms outstretched towards the enemies. Bullets suspend themselves in mid-air, new ones flying and faulting by the dozens every second.

“Can’t hold it for much longer,” he gasps. “Living room- go!”

“But-”

“Go!” he screams.

They split up. Jason draws fire as he runs into the basement, and the rest of them slide into the living room. Annabeth turns invisible. “Hide!” she hisses.

“Easy for you to say,” Piper yells through her teeth. She’s still cradling her arm from her fall on the staircase.

“Shh!”

Annabeth cowers behind a couch. Next to her, Nico winces while gently prodding the bruise on his forehead. She grabs his wrist in a silent gesture of don’t touch.

Footsteps echo behind them, and Annabeth holds her breath. Her grip on Nico’s wrist tightens. He grabs her hand back, his own trembling.

The footsteps stop.

“Who the fuck are these people?” one of their pursuers groans. She has a distinctively Puerto Rican accent.

There’s some buzz over a static. The mystery attacker speaks into what must be an earpiece or a radio. “I don’t see any of them. It’s too dark in here, I think we knocked out the lights.”

There’s more fervent buzzing over the line.

“Earpiece. Give it over now or I shoot.”

Annabeth snaps up. Next to her, Nico’s eyes expand to the size of dinner plates.

It’s Piper.

She has a gun pointed at their assailant. Annabeth can only see her profile, but her eyebrow is cocked and her stance is firm.

Annabeth stands up.

Their assailant has rich skin, dark hair, and eyes that could send a grown man crying for mama. But Piper doesn’t look the least bit afraid.

“Earpiece,” she demands. “Now.”

The woman takes a small black disk from her ear and crushes it under her foot. She says nothing.

“Three things. Who are you, who sent you, and why.”

The woman remains tight-lipped. In fact, her bottom lip curls only slightly.

“Who the fuck sent you!” Annabeth yells. “Tell us, or I swear to god, she’s gonna fucking kill you!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She turns, and her heart sinks into her stomach. Nausea swirls in her veins like an old friend, threatening to bring breakfast up at the mere sight of what’s before her. Behind her, Nico stands abruptly. Annabeth turns to him, hand held out. The expression on his face isn’t anger like she may have expected, but... fear.

He’s _terrified._

Nico runs forward, too fast for Annabeth to catch him. He has murder in his eyes and his stride.

Hazel saves the day.

She comes from behind and wraps her arms around his waist, tugging him backward. “NO!” He screams. “LET ME GO!”

The second woman in the room laughs. “Someone’s a little mad about the bait.”

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Nico screams. “I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

In the grasp of a second woman who just walked into the room, with a gun pressed to his temple, is Will.

He doesn’t look terrified. He just looks blank. There’s a bleeding bruise on his temple, just above where the tip of the gun rests.

He licks his lips. A tear slips down his cheek.

“If your finger so much as twitches on that trigger, I’ll blow Blondie’s brains out.”

Nico screams and hurls himself forwards. Frank drags him back.

Will jolts to life and shakes his head, looking straight at Nico. His eyes are shiny with unshed tears. He keeps shaking his head. The woman holding him leans down and strikes him in the gut with the butt of her gun. He doubles over, coughing and shaking. His captor drags him back up by the hair.

Nico makes another attempt to run. Annabeth feels a tear fall down her cheek.

“What do you want?” Piper shrieks. “What the hell do you want?”

“Thalia,” the first woman says. She glances at Will then looks down at the ground, almost ashamed. “She broke a contract with the Commission and we have orders to take her out. Give her to us and you can have the boy back.”

“Not on your fucking life,” Annabeth growls. Beside her, Piper spits on the ground in agreement.

The second woman tilts her head, giving the look of someone vaguely psychotic. “Give us Thalia, and the boy lives.”

Piper’s gun doesn’t shake. “No. You’ll give him back, and we’ll let _you_ live.”

The second woman clicks her tongue and tightens her grip around Will’s neck. She digs the barrel into his temple and the latter whimpers in pain.

Behind her, Nico flinches so badly Annabeth can’t miss it.

“All it takes,” the second woman says. “Just give us Thalia, and I won’t have to do anything that might mess up my suit.”

“You fucking-” Hazel grinds her teeth together. Annabeth’s eyes widen; she’s never heard Hazel curse before. “I’ll-”

“Frank, let me GO!” Nico screams.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” the second woman says, tapping her gun against Will’s forehead. “A lot on the line, here. Don’t want your boyfriend’s brains decorating the wall, do you?”

Annabeth can see Will stiffen. The second woman laughs. “Oh, I did get it right.” She digs her gun into his cheekbone. “C’mon then, Pretty Boy. You can save him, if you want.” She smiles, it looks like a snake baring its teeth. “He’s cute, I’d save him too,” she whispers.”

“Otrera,” The first woman snaps.

‘Otrera’ clicks her tongue, but slackens a little. “Can’t deny me a little fun, Hylla.”

‘Hylla’ gives a warning glare, and Otrera rolls her eyes. “It’s not like they’ll be able to find us, she’ll be dead in-”

Something tentacle wraps around Otrera’s waist. She screams as she’s hauled into the air and thrown upwards. She goes up, up, up, then down, down, down, until she lands on the marble floor with a horrifying thump. Hylla’s swept off her feet by another tentacle, and a third gently wraps around Will’s waist and drops him in their side of the room.

Hazel catches him with a barely restrained sob. The room glows in ethereal blue light, and it’s coming from Nico.

Frank lets him go now.

At the other side of the room, a glowing dark-haired figure vanishes with a wink. On the floor, Otrera begins to stand up, and Nico crashes into her with the fury of a thousand realms of hell.

He smashes a fist across her face and knees her in the gut, never stopping. There’s no hesitation in the way he absolutely _destroys_ her. Hylla scrambles to her feet and tries to go at him from behind; Annabeth and Hazel step in. Annabeth with her fists, and Hazel wielding a very excellent ball and chain.

With… her mind.

It ricochets around the room and several of the points drag long slashes over Hylla’s back and legs before she can even try to fight back.

Beside them, Nico flings himself into a backflip. He kicks Otrera in the face as he flips, and she flies up while he swings back. She crashes into the ground, mouth spewing blood.

Nico lands without a quaver to his stance.

He runs in, presumably for a debilitating blow, but Hazel grabs his arms. Hylla’s on the floor, bleeding heavily.

“Wait,” she whispers in his ear. “Nico-”

“No,” he gasps. “She- she said she would kill him-”

“Nico--”

“NO!” he screams, trying to wriggle out of Hazel’s grasp, but he won’t hurt her. Tears stream down his olive cheeks.

Otrera stumbles to her feet. She sways, and barely keeps her balance.

“You’re not going to make it out of here alive unless you tell us everything you know.”

“Oh,” Otrera slurs. “I think we will.”

She holds up a tiny plastic square, presses a button, and the entire world explodes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha im not sorry 
> 
> ngl this chapter was one of the most fun to write. sorry not sorry nico #ANGSTBABES
> 
> next time on hsow: the team recuperates and deals with what they've done. nico and will have a talk. thalia finally answers some questions.


	5. In Which A Member Of The Team Pulls A Takashi Shirogane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team recovers. Nico and Will have a talk. Annabeth discovers something, and Thalia finally lays it all on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess what!!! two weeks instead of three on the update!!! #goodauthor
> 
> lmao no.
> 
> for any of y'all who don't understand the title... pls watch vld. i'm in klance hell. someone kill me with a rusty lance.
> 
> hah.
> 
> get it.
> 
> lance.
> 
> fuck, i'm done now. this chapter is definitely gonna, uh, make up from all the fucking crazy angst that just happened. and it's also... not. for some reason my ass is hyperfocusing on another fic i'm writing rn and??? i wrote 50k???? in like a fucking month??? that may not seem like much but with a high school workload it's kinda wtf???
> 
> anyways, i'm done for real. read on!!

All Annabeth sees is white. 

White light, like the Heavens are raining down on them. It’s completely blinding. 

Part of her knows it’s a flash bomb. But the other part of her is completely incapacitated by the sudden onslaught on her nerves. 

By the time she can see again, Otrera and Hylla are gone. 

Across the room, she can see Nico crawling across the floor. She turns and sees Piper lying down with her limbs in a starfish. 

Fuck, only they would act like this after someone shot up their house.

“They’re gone?” Piper gasps. “My eyes are still burning, but I’m assuming they’re gone.”

“They’re gone,” Annabeth confirms. “Does anyone know how long it’s been?”

“About ten minutes,” someone says. 

Annabeth looks up. Her vision is still a little blurry, but she can make out Jason’s form just fine.

“Hey,” she groans. “You happen to catch them?”

“Sorry,” Jason says. “Clarisse and I only came at the light. By then, they were gone."

“Fuck,” Annabeth groans. 

“What happened?” 

Annabeth raises a shaky finger. “Nico kicked their asses.”

But across the room, Nico isn’t listening. He’s practically in Will’s lap, with his arms wrapped around him. Will’s hugging back. 

Annabeth’s pretty sure he’s getting blood on Nico’s jacket, and she’s also pretty sure Nico doesn’t care. 

“Guess they’re fine.”

Clarisse growls. “Okay, what really happened?”

Annabeth sighs. “We hid in the living room. Piper pulled out a gun from who-fucking-knows-where-”

“Under the couch.”

“Under the couch,” Annabeth corrects. “She pulled a gun on one of them. Hylla. Puerto Rican, tough eyes.”

“They took off their masks?”

“I-” Annabeth stops, and frowns. “Yeah, Nico, didn’t you say they were wearing masks when you saw them?”

Nico’s practically sitting in Will’s lap at this point. “Yep,” he says. “So, they took them off?”

“Must be,” Annabeth says. “Piper had her gun on one of them, made her smash her comms, and then the other lady came in.”

“She took you by surprise?”

“No,” Annabeth corrects. She flinches. “She-”

“This woman came into my room a minute after Nico told me to stay put,” Will says. “I tried to hide. Then I tried to fight her, but, ah, I’m not very good. She hit me on the head with the butt of her gun and dragged me downstairs." 

“She took you hostage,” Jason says softly. He growls in his throat. “What the hell did they want?”

“Thalia,” Piper groans. “They said she broke a deal with them. They wanted her dead.”

“Fuck,” Jason sighs. “Will? You okay?”

“Fine,” he groans. “A little cough-y but fine.”

Piper tilts her head. “Is that even a word?” 

“GUYS.”

“Right, sorry.”

* * *

He can’t stop looking at it. 

It’s ugly. Blood is still caked on his forehead, and now it’s dried dripping down his face. Nico doesn’t miss the way Will winces whenever something touches the cut.

“Will,” he says softly. More softly than he’s heard himself speak in years. “Will, c’mon, you’ve got to get patched up.”

Will groans a little into his shoulder. Despite himself, Nico nearly smiles. “Come on,” he murmurs. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”

“That’d be nice,” Will mumbles into his neck. “I am pretty good at being a damsel in distress.”

Nico decides to save his response to that for later, instead draping Will’s arm around his shoulder. He hauls him to his feet. “I’m gonna get him cleaned up,” he says to Hazel. She nods and gives him a brief smile. 

He gets Will up the stairs without much problem, aside for an occasional stumble. Then, finally, they’re in one of the bathrooms. Will sits on the toilet carefully. 

“You’re not a damsel in distress,” Nico says, wetting a rag. He hands it to Will, who starts cleaning the blood off his face. 

“I kind of am,” he groans. “At least you can still fight without your power. I saw you.”

Nico looks down, remembering there’s blood on his fists. 

“Please never do that for me.”

He looks up. “What?”

Will blinks. He won’t meet his gaze. “Kill someone.”

Nico opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. “Will-”

“Please,” Will repeats. He looks up, and his eyes are shiny. “I wish I could say the scariest part of today was Otrera holding that gun to my head, but it wasn’t. It was watching you almost kill her.”

“Will-”

“I don’t want you to be a murderer for me,” Will says. He pulls at the rag in his hands, twisting it awkwardly. A little water drips onto his jeans. “Please, Nico. Tell me you won’t kill her.”

Will looks so desperate, so _broken_ , with a bruise on his forehead that sent a mantra of _my fault, my fault, my fault_ screaming through Nico’s mind. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there, and Will got hurt. 

Those pale blue eyes stare so longingly, so openly, and Nico’s heart yearns for something he’s never even had. He wants to hold Will and never let go, but most of all, he never wants to see those blue eyes full of pain like this ever again. He’s willing to do anything not to have to see him like this.

But Will wants the impossible. 

“I,” Nico starts. “I don’t know if I can.” He stutters for a second, before continuing. “But I wouldn’t be killing her for _you_ , I’d-”

“Don’t lie to me, Nico. You only want to murder her because of the things she did to me.”

“Will, I would never-”

“Promise me,” Will says. His voice is more serious than Nico’s ever heard it. 

“But-”

“Nico.”

He wants to do exactly the opposite of what Will says. He wants to find this Otrera woman and put a bullet in her brain. He wants to see her drop dead because of the things she did. He wants to watch the blood spill from her lifeless body, and he wants it to be his hand that deals the killing blow. He wants her to die just because she hurt the man he cares about.

But he wants Will more. 

“I promise,” he whispers, so softly he almost can’t hear it himself. He bends down awkwardly to get on Will’s level. One of his hands brushes through blood-streaked blond curls. Nico says again, “I promise.”

Will blinks. His lips part by barely a millimeter. His gaze flickers downward and then up, while Nico just stares.

And then Will’s kissing him. 

It’s not soft and gentle. It’s not a _thank you_ or an _I like you_. 

It’s an _I need you_.

Will’s lips are soft and chapped and insistent, and he tastes like blood. Nico doesn’t hesitate to kiss back.

Will kisses him like he needs it, like he’s drowning and Nico is his lifeline. Nico scoots forward, his legs still awkwardly bent, and he sits across Will’s lap. Their usual height difference is negated, and his mouth chases the contact it’s lost.

Their lips dance a duel, gentle and languid, fierce and desperate. Will’s hands tighten on his hips, and Nico takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Will’s mouth. The latter moans, Nico can feel it buzz through his chest, and just like that, he’s gone. 

Will’s hands slide around the back of his waist, holding on tight. His fingers brush by bare skin between the line of Nico’s t-shirt and jeans, and Nico involuntarily rocks his hips. Heat shoots up his spine like lighting, and Will gasps through the kiss underneath him.

He’s drowning, but he doesn’t want to swim. He’s drowning in soft curls and bright eyes and a laugh that could always cure his sadness. He’s drowning in the immeasurable beauty that’s blonde hair and blue eyes and a smile on a winter day.

He’s drowning, but he wants it.

Will’s hand travels up his back, feeling the bumps and ridges of his spine through his thin t-shirt. Nico shivers on instinct, breathing into Will’s mouth. He rakes his hands through Will’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Their lips slide together messily, searching and claiming and branding their desire in a way that should be odd or gross, but it isn’t. It’s everything but that. All that’s pounding through Nico’s mind is a mantra of _mine, mine, mine._ It’s seeking at best, desperate at worst, but Nico’s in love with it. He wants to do this every second he’s alive. Every second he isn’t kissing Will is a second wasted.

He slows the kiss a little bit, pushing deeper instead of faster. He licks into Will’s mouth gently, pulling on his bottom lip with his teeth. Will tilts his head, his teeth brush Nico’s tongue and _holy shit_ , why have they waited so long to do this?

Will wrenches back with a gasp. “Oh,” he exhales.

They’re so close their noses bump. Looking down, Will’s lips are pink and slightly swollen. The fact that _he did that_ hits him with a reeling blow. “Oh,” Nico mimics, imitating Will’s voice. “Is that it?” His question is joking, but his voice communicates how he really feels. He sounds wrecked and desperate, his voice hoarse and faint, but the worst (best?) part is _he doesn’t care_.

“No,” Will murmurs. “You’re- you’re a lot more than words. Any words. Could, uh, describe.”

Despite himself, he’s feeling reckless. “Did I break you?” He murmurs into Will’s ear, his voice a breathless giggle. 

“Yes,” Will says, his voice strong for the first time since the kiss. “You utterly shattered me, and you know it.”

“Good,” Nico murmurs, pressing a kiss to Will’s neck. “I like you shattered.”

Will grabs him by the curve of his neck and pulls him into another kiss. Nico cups his hands around Will’s face, his bruised, bloody hands, and kisses back with all he has. The dried blood on Will’s cheek is scratchy under his right palm, but Will’s curls are soft against his other. 

They stay like that for a long time, locked in their embrace, first aid tools littering the floor amidst a long-overdue kiss.

* * *

Annabeth is fucking _tired_.

She wants to pull a Percy and sleep for six hours.

Speaking of Percy-

“Oh my god,” she laughs. “Oh my _god_.”

“What is it?” Hazel asks, immediately terrified. “Oh god, what is it?”

“Percy,” Annabeth laughs. “He slept through _all_ of it.”

Hazel blinks. Then she snorts with laughter. “That’s- that’s so him!”

“I’m going to wake him up,” she says. “I think a couple assassins shooting up the house constitutes that much.”

“Thalia’s still not awake yet?”

Annabeth shakes her head, grimacing. “Nope.” She starts walking back towards the stairs, spinning when she reaches the banister. “Percy!” She yells as she walks through the hallway.

The whole second floor is a total mess. There are dozens of bullet holes in the wall. The door to Will’s room is hanging off its hinges, and when she looks inside, his normally neat and organized stacks of books are upset all over the floor. A splash of dark red blood adds a morbid decoration to the bedspread. 

They’ll handle that later. 

She turns away from Will’s room, stepping past a whole scattering of bullet shells on the floor. Her mind instantly catalogs the fight, calculating what happened simply from the bullet marks and shell casings scattered all over the place. She files the information in her head for further use. 

Annabeth bites her lip and forces herself not to think for once. 

“Percy!” She yells, coming up to his (also blue) door. She bangs on it three times. “Wake up sleepyhead, we’ve got a lot to catch up on!”

Nothing. 

Annabeth frowns. She turns the doorknob, it’s unlocked.

The door swings open eerily. It creaks and knocks gently into the wall behind it. 

The bed is empty. 

Her vision crisscrosses the room at an alarming rate. She checks the window. Closed and locked from the inside. There’s no one in the closet or at the desk. She runs across the hallway to the bathroom, she throws open every door on the level, she calls Percy’s phone. 

It rings on the bed stand, still plugged into the charger. 

She checks every room twice, three times. She finds Nico in one of the bathrooms, tending to the bruise on Will’s face. There’s still blood crusted down his own cheek.

He asks her if she’s okay. She doesn’t know. 

She stumbles out the story to the rest, sitting on one of the living room couches. Everyone tells her to breathe. 

She can’t.

“Percy’s gone,” she gasps. “Percy’s gone.”

* * *

“They took him,” Piper growls, stomping back and forth. “Those bitches kidnapped him and I fucking know it.”

“Piper,” Jason starts, but she shuts him up with a wave of her hand. “Don’t tell me to calm down, I’m not going to calm down!”

“I was saying, you’re freaking out Annabeth,” Jason hisses, but not too quiet for her to hear. 

She doesn’t seem to move. It’s like she can’t move. 

“ _I think she’s in shock_ ,” she remembers Will saying. “ _There’s just too much going on and her brain froze._ ”

Annabeth falls off the couch.

Everyone’s yelling and crowding over her; Annabeth just blinks. “You’re too fucking loud,” she mumbles. 

Piper holds her and sobs. “You wouldn’t speak,” she mumbles. “You just kept saying over and over again ‘Percy’s gone.’ I thought you wouldn’t stop, but when you did it was _worse_.”

She hugs Piper back, holding her trembling body. Hazel rests her forehead on her shoulder, and Clarisse gives her a lip-bitten nod.

“Did you find anything?” she says, voice hoarse. “Any clues? Is he really…?”

“There was a solid three minutes when Otrera wasn’t accounted for,” Leo says with a flat voice. “From between when she fought Nico and- and found Will. We think-” His voice cracks, and Hazel rests a hand on his arm. 

“We think she found Percy and k-kidnapped him then.”

Piper’s not the only one trembling now. 

“But we can find him,” Annabeth says, sniffling. “We can- street cameras, and- we can find them.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to,” someone says. 

Across the room, Thalia leans onto the doorjamb like it’s a walker. She stumbles into the room.

For once, Annabeth isn’t happy to see her. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she says. 

Thalia wrings her hands. “I know.”

They sit Thalia down on the couch and she begins to talk. 

“I lived in a dead world for eight years,” Thalia says. “I lived off what I could find. Canned food. Bugs. Anything.” She bites her lip and looks down. “When someone comes and offers you a job after living in hell for eight years, you don’t hesitate.” Thalia scrunches up her eyebrows, and sighs, shaking her head. “Let me start at the beginning.”

She looks desolate, almost. Reliving this past must be horrible for her. Annabeth thinks about all the late nights she spent on the couch waiting with all the lights on. Sometimes Percy would find her, and he would sit with her and tell her he’d wait up too. But he’d fall asleep an hour in, that that was how she would spend the night. Percy’s warm weight on her, with her own eyes trained on the door while praying for it to open. 

Thalia takes a deep breath and looks right at Annabeth. “The woman said she was from the Commission. She told me that they were an organization that monitors the timeline. As in, time travel.” She blinks, like she can’t look at her anymore, and switches to Jason. “They asked me to work for them for five years. After that, I could go where I want, whenever I want. Live out the rest of my life in peace, years before the apocalypse.” She keeps her head down like she can’t look any of them in the eye. “To preserve the timeline, you don’t always kill the bad guys. Sometimes, you kill the good guys. Sometimes, you kill people who aren’t involved at all.” 

Annabeth can see Jason stiffen. She suddenly has a horrible vision of Thalia, of Thalia pointing a gun. Of Thalia alone for so long, so long that even her morals began to disintegrate. She shivers at the thought. 

“I killed whoever they told me to. I didn’t hesitate. I knew it wasn’t personal, I knew it was just a job, but I couldn’t let it go.” She picks at her fingernails. “I wish I could say that’s why I left. I wish I could say I had a moral realization. But it was to save you guys from the apocalypse.” She finally looks up, her electric eyes are brimming with tears. “Hylla and Otrera are who I was. Commissioned-commissioned assassins. They’re here to take me out before I stop the apocalypse, to preserve the original timeline. They won’t stop until I’m dead.”

Nobody speaks for a solid twenty seconds. 

“Holy _fuck_.” Piper gasps.

That about sums it up. 

“The thing is,” Thalia says, wringing her hands. “They won’t stop until I’m dead, right? They can send whoever they want, whenever they want. Hundreds of people just as well trained as the two that almost killed us could show up here just like that.” She snaps her fingers. 

“I fought Hylla,” Nico says. “And Otrera, a bit, in the hallway. They’re good. I couldn’t pin them down, and no offense, but I’m not exactly a white belt.”

“You did beat the shit out of her in the end, though,” Piper says, a little reverence in her voice. “I’m jealous.”

Will looks anywhere but the rest of them, and Annabeth’s eyes widen to dinner plates when Nico gently takes his hand. “The thing is,” Nico says, leaning his head on Will’s shoulder, “they’re going to find us. And they have Percy. That’s one problem solved.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused.” 

Nico frowns. “It’s... pretty obvious? They do have Percy, right? That’s been decided?”

“No,” Hazel laughs. “Not that. You’re koala-ing, Nico.”

Nico pouts, scrunching up his nose. Will shoots Hazel a playful glare, and the rest of them look on, just a little stunned. Nico scrunches up his legs and rests his head between Will’s shoulder and chin.

“Ok, moving on from,” Piper waves her hand around, “that--”

Nico flips her off.

“-what are we going to do?”

Annabeth stands up. “I’m not waiting for those bitches to show up again. I’m gonna go find them.

“Do you… have a lead?” Will asks. His cheeks are a little flushed; Nico’s still curled around him. 

“...no.”

“Do you know how to get one?” Piper questions.

“...no.”

“Annabeth,” Jason says. “You know how nuts this sounds.”

She cries, “I have to do something!” She’s about to pull her hair out. “We have no idea what they’re doing to him, they could be fucking torturing him, I’m not going to just sit here and wait.”

Thalia buries her hands into her choppy hair. 

“Any bright ideas?” Nico asks her. His whole ‘Death to Everyone’ vibe is slightly muted by the fact that he’s literally snuggling. 

“No,” Thalia admits in defeat. “They’ll probably be in some seedy motel--”

“Then let’s start there!” Annabeth cries. 

“Come on,” Piper interjects. “Do you know how many seedy motels there are in a ten-block radius alone? And they’re probably using fake names. There’s no way we’ll find them.”

“I’m sorry, Annabeth,” Thalia says. “There’s just nothing we can do.”

“Bullshit,” She spits. “There’s _always_ something we can do. And I shouldn’t be the one pushing for this, Thals!” Annabeth levels a furious finger. “You’re the one who fucking got us into this mess in the first place!”

“I AM THE ONE WHO IS SAVING YOUR ASSES,” Thalia booms. “From a fucking apocalypse. It’s not my fault Percy got himself fucking kidnapped!”

“ENOUGH!” Hazel screams. 

Immediately, both she and Thalia are ashamed. When Hazel yells, you know it’s bad.

Hazel glares and points at Thalia first. “ _You_ are not understanding enough of the facts. She just lost her person! Give her some damn slack, let her act a little crazy!” Annabeth makes a face, and Hazel switches her gaze to her. 

“And _you_ ,” she says, and Annabeth gulps. “You need to not do stupid shit when you’re still insecure. And you need to understand that Thalia risked a lot to help us.”

She looks between the two of them for a second, then claps her hand. “Come on! We’re adults, not children!”

Annabeth looks at her ground, suddenly fascinated in her boot laces. Have they always been that frayed? She needs to get new ones soon. 

“I’m not going to make you apologize to each other,” Hazel says. “All I need you to do is _focus_ so we can get Percy back. He’s missing for all of us too.”

“Sorry,” Annabeth coughs out. “I guess I’m not… really sane right now.”

“Understatement,” Leo murmurs. Hazel turns around and smacks him. 

“Thalia,” Hazel starts, gesturing like an elementary school teacher. Annabeth half expects her to get one of those pointers with the cartoon white pointer finger and start gesturing. “Any insight on how Hylla and Otrera might make their next move?”

“Um,” Thalia says. She bounces her knee and bites her lip. “They’ll probably try to leave us a message. If they can get a flat out exchange without storming the house again, they’ll probably do that, given by how bad, uh, Nico beat them up.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Hazel says. “Hylla’s blood on my favorite carpet would like a word.”

“You have a favorite carpet?” Clarisse muses. “All the carpets here are shit.”

Hazel frowns. “Yeah, but the one she bled on was my favorite.”

“Guys,” Piper brings them back. “As much as I’m up for goofing around…?” She waves her hands ungainly. 

“Right,” Hazel says. “Thalia. How would they proceed?”

“As soon as they have me in killable range, it’ll be a shootout. They’ll need to kill all eleven of us. The policy says you kill anyone who knows who you are, where you’re from, and why you're there. Everyone here knows all three of those things.”

“They’re gonna mow us down the minute they get the chance,” Will says. His hand is absentmindedly running through Nico’s hair, and Nico leans into it with vaguely feline grace. “When that happens… what do we do?”

“I can stop the bullets for a second,” Jason offers. “Long enough to scatter.”

“What we really have to do is hold out until the end of the world,” Thalia says. “We need as much time as we can. If Hylla and Otrera fail, they’ll just send another team. It won’t stop.”

“Wait a second,” Annabeth says, holding her hands up. “You’re saying… we do nothing?”

“I’m saying,” Thalia answers, a certain finality discoloring her tone, “we don’t have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: oh fuck i gave them so much solangelo angst you know what? A KISS! WHILE TAKING CARE OF EACH OTHER! YES I AM WRITER!
> 
> percy = takashi shirogane except gay y'all can fight me on this shiro is secretly a rebel and i know it.
> 
> next time on hsow: *insert return of the king meme*


	6. Don't You Know Smoking's Bad For You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team deals with the aftermath of Thalia's announcement. Annabeth struggles to regain her grip on reality. Will's feeling a little... different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo yo yo happy holidays motherfuckers. 
> 
> my family are big christmas people and LET ME TELL YOU weekends are strictly cookies, horrible hallmark movies, lennon sisters christmas album, and fires. so it's been ~interesting~ finding time to write. 
> 
> now, this is where the mature rating comes in a little. there is sexual content in this chapter, it's vague on the explicit parts but it's pretty clear what's going on. So, if you want to skip to the end of that scene, it's fine. no huge plot points in there.

Half an hour later, Annabeth still can’t do anything. 

The past thirty minutes has felt more like thirty hours. Every second she spends worrying about Percy, the deeper her stomach sinks between her legs, the more guilt floods her veins. 

She knows Thalia’s right. She knows that the only way they’re going to pull this off is if time is on their side. 

But every time she lets her mind stray, every time she tries to relax, she sees Percy. Percy, being tortured or shoved in the trunk of someone’s car. Percy, desperately hoping someone will come save him.

Annabeth tugs on her hair in some effort to control her thoughts. She rolls off the couch slowly, landing in an awkward crouch before stumbling to stand. Moving her feet in an acceptable walking pattern is far more difficult than it should be, but at least the repetitive movement quiets the screaming in her mind. 

Good. That’s good. 

Her legs take her upstairs. Absentmindedly, she traces the bullet holes in the expensive mahogany walls. The pads of her fingers brush past wallpaper shredded to bits from the sheer amount of bullets pumped into it. 

With the sheer amount of activity in her brain, the more she moves, the more in a trance she feels. Her head is swimming like an ocean under a full moon. 

It feels like she’s high. 

God, she wishes she’s high.

Annabeth breathes like this for a minute, her eyebrows fluttering, while her hand itches for a cigarette.

A sharp cracking sound snaps her out of it. 

Annabeth whips her head towards the noise. It comes from a bedroom with a busted door. She walks over, resting a hand on the door jamb. 

The churning in her mind is starting to slow. She inhales for a second, tilting her head at the sight before her.

“Will?”

He looks up. Part of his blond hair is still stained pink from blood. “Hey,” he says tiredly. “Sorry about the… uh, the noise.”

Annabeth frowns. “What’s going on?”

Will rubs his forehead. “...I can’t find my meds.”

“The ones for your nerves?”

“Yeah,” Will sighs. “I forgot to take them this morning and I can _feel_ them wearing off and I can’t find the damn bottle!” Will grinds his fingers into his eyes. “I’ve never lost my meds, not _once,_ and I can’t get another refill until next week because I just got one, like, five days ago.”

Annabeth grimaces. “I haven’t seen them anywhere. I’m sorry.”

Will lifts a pillow halfheartedly and scowls at the blank floor beneath it. “Anyways,” he says, with the air of giving up. “What about you? How are you doing?”

“I’m…” Annabeth sighs. “I’m managing.” Her fingers twitch again, and she groans. “I really want a cigarette.”

Will snaps his fingers. “I can help with that.” He snags something from underneath his dresser and tosses it to her. 

It’s a pack of cigarettes, open with two of them missing. Annabeth raises her eyebrows. “These are yours?”

Will waves his hand in a so-so motion. “Nico and I split a pack every now and then.”

“Oooh,” Annabeth says halfheartedly. “Rebel.” She flops down on his bed. 

“Hah,” Will laughs. His voice falls flat. “Yeah, right. I can barely get a pull in before coughing half my lungs out.”

Annabeth pulls out two of the cigarettes and hands the pack back. “Can I have these?”

“Sure,” he says. Will twirls a lighter in his hands and tucks it in his pocket. “You know what, I’m gonna go find Nico, see if he wants to take the edge off. Let me know if you want more?”

Annabeth nods halfheartedly, and Will flashes her a smile before ducking out of the doorway. 

She’s left in a wrecked room with two thin white tubes of nicotine release in her hands. 

It’s only when she stands up that she realizes she was sitting on the blood spot.

Great.

* * *

Will’s head is spinning. 

Not like he has a headache or anything, no, it’s more from his thoughts than the ache coming from the bruise on his forehead. 

As soon as he mentioned Nico to Annabeth, he had this weird urge just to see him. That seeing him would make him really happy, and he should do it.

He’s never felt like that before. 

Nervously, he turns the cigarette box over in his hands before stuffing it in his pocket. He walks down the hallway, running his hands through his hair and doing his best to comb it back before knocking on Nico’s door. 

Nico answers almost immediately. His knuckles barely leave the door when it swings open. “Hey,” he says.

There’s no more blood on his cheek. Just smooth, clean olive skin. He must have changed shirts too, the new one he’s wearing is sufficiently less bloodstained.

He’s so _beautiful._

Wait, what?

Will resists the urge to smack himself. What is up with his mind today? “Hi,” he answers, before digging the cigarettes out of his pocket and holding them up. “Want to go to the roof?”

Nico’s neutral expression melts into a grin. “Hell yeah,” he says. “Let me grab my jacket.” He spins around and snags a soft black sweater off the back of a chair. He wriggles into it, instantly transforming his whole look from slightly emo punk to something softer. His dark hair is fluffy from a recent shower. 

“You’re adorable,” Will blurts out before he can stop himself. His cheeks heat up, and he ducks his head in embarrassment. “I mean- that sweater is--” Will groans and buries his head in his hands. When he looks up, Nico’s laughing. 

Nico raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Will holds out a hand. “To the roof?”

Nico grins in response. “To the roof,” he says. He loops Will’s hand through his, letting the latter pull him out of the room and down the hallway. Their hands swing a little bit as they walk towards the second set of stairs, and Will feels like the schoolboy he never was. 

They emerge into the unfinished top floor of the mansion. Yellowed wallpaper lies in rolls against the walls, which don’t even have drywall or insulation. They’re just bare-bones. 

Will hasn’t been up here in years. He remembers the last time. Eighteen, full of life and dreams and holding an acceptance letter to med school. He remembers the way Nico’s face trembled just the tiniest bit when he said he was leaving.

But Nico was leaving too. They all were.

He remembers Nico's last cigarette with him on the edge of the bay window. He remembers scolding Nico about ruining his lungs. 

Hah. If his eighteen year old self could see him now, he’d be pretty fucking astonished. 

Nico immediately goes to the window. He sits on the ledge, his legs swinging over the edge. Will joins him, the brick ridge just wide enough for the two of them. 

He opens the box of cigarettes without so much as a word, lighting one up and using it to ignite a second one. He hands one of them to Nico, and takes a drag off the other. 

He coughs. Of course he does, while Nico inhales a mouthful of smoke smoothly and seamlessly.  
He’s always been too good at that. 

“Just go slower,” Nico says with a smile. “You keep inhaling too fast. 

Will flicks a little ash at him. Nico laughs. He leans his shoulder against Will’s as they look out on the city.

It’s past dark already. Today… Well, today was one hell of a day already. He can’t believe it was only this morning when Annabeth yelled at him at the breakfast table then came to give him a surprisingly heartfelt apology.

He can’t believe it was only an hour ago that an assassin was holding him hostage.

Will takes another drag, but he coughs again, _god damn it._

Nico shakes his head. “You’re doing it all wrong,” he says. Will’s eyes can’t help but follow the movement of his lips. 

Nico’s bow shaped lips deserve the world. He’s just going to come out and say that.

Nico takes a slow pull, exaggerated for Will’s benefit. Grey smoke spills from his mouth and nose, graceful as always. 

Will shakes his head though a little laugh. “I choke every time.”

Nico’s eyebrows clench together, like he’s thinking deeply. “Hang on a second,” he says, before taking a deep pull as fast as he can.  
Then he seals his lips over Will’s.

Faintly, he can register the smoke from Nico’s mouth getting pushed into his, filling up his mouth and nose, but his mind is mostly preoccupied by Nico’s lips. Just Nico’s lips.

Nico pulls away entirely too soon, grinning like a daredevil while a loose bit of smoke tumbles out of his mouth. “Is that better?”

Will has enough brain matter not turned to goo to be able to exhale the smoke gently out of his mouth. 

And he doesn’t choke. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, before busting a grin. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

Nico shrugs. “College.”

“Nico, you have an _english degree._ I don’t think that’s ground zero for wild parties.”

“You’d be surprised,” he shoots back. “You’ve never lived until you’ve seen drunk linguists”

Will can't help it. He laughs.

Suddenly, Nico swings off the window ledge. He grinds his cigarette out against the window sill, dark ash staining the brick. 

Will frowns. Nico holds out a hand. 

He lets himself be pulled back into the house, his barely smoked cigarette stubbed out and forgotten on the ledge next to Nico’s. 

Nico pushes him against the wall and seals their lips together. 

He tastes like smoke. Will thinks it’s beautiful. 

_Beautiful._

There it is again, that aching surge of emotion. It licks like flames inside him, begging him to reach out and _take._ Suddenly, all he wants is to touch, to touch Nico as much as he can. He wants it. He _needs_ it.

He drinks Nico in in greedy gulpfuls, dragging his hands over his back in an effort to pull him closer. His hands brush over the top of Nico’s ass, and--

“Whoa,” Nico says, breaking the kiss with a gasp. “Will--?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice strained. “I just- I just _really_ want you right now.”

Nico’s spine trembles underneath his hands. “Oh,” he gasps. “That’s really--” Will’s hips start grinding into him. _“Fuck,_ Will.”

He has enough to sense to hold back, enough thought to not be an ass. “Sorry,” he gasps. “Didn’t mean to--”

“No, fuck, just kiss me,” Nico gasps, grabbing his jaw and smashing their lips together. His leg curls around Will’s thigh, almost affectionately. 

Nico’s mouth is sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted. His lips are soaked in honey and dusted in powdered sugar.

And Will’s so _hungry._

He licks into Nico’s mouth with the fervor of a drowning man, with a desperation like nothing he’s ever known. His world is swimming in red, in euphoria and lips that taste like sweet smoke. 

Eventually, he can’t breathe. He wrenches his lips off Nico’s with a gasp, before running them down his neck. He sucks on one spot, then another, his mind an insatiable mess of need, want, and taste, and he _really_ wants Nico to feel the same way.

“Fuck,” Nico gasps. His hips rock into Will’s like it’s out of his control. “Fuck, Will, _how do you feel so good?”_

Will doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s so consumed in Nico, in his warm skin and soft lips. In every way he moves, in everything he does. 

He’s drowning, and he’s already out of air. 

He finally gets a hand around Nico’s ass, squeezing a little. “Fuck,” he gasps into Nico’s mouth. “Nice ass.”

Nico’s chest shakes with laughter. “Nice ass? That’s what you say? Will, oh my g-- _odddd, fuck.”_

Halfway through the name of everybody’s favorite deity, Will uses the hand still on his ass to push their hips together. Nico’s tone switches from laughing to desperate in a split second, and Will’s kind of in love with it. 

“Will,” Nico gasps, ripping their lips apart. His are pink and swollen. “As much as I want to keep going we’re- we’re in the middle of an unfinished room and I _really_ want you to fuck me on a bed.”

Well holy shit.

The image is in his mind now, and it’s causing all his circuits to blow.

“Right,” Will groans, equally breathless. He can’t seem to take his hands off of Nico. “Uh… shall we?”

Nico grins. He steps backwards, grabbing Will’s wrist and pulling him away from the window. 

They stumble towards the stairs like teenagers, spending half of the time kissing and half of the time almost missing their footing. Will laughs into Nico’s mouth while he curses after almost falling down the stairs. 

The hallways to the bedrooms are deserted. Will’s door is currently about six feet away from his hinges, so they stumble into Nico’s room.

They get inside. Everything slows. 

Will reaches a hand out behind him to shut the door. It clicks closed, the sound loud in the suddenly silent room. 

Nico stares into his eyes for a second. Then, ever so slowly, he loops his fingers around the belt loops of Will’s jeans and tugs him forward. 

_“Oh my god,”_ Will gasps. He can’t breathe, he can’t move, he can’t _think,_ because _fuck,_ Nico’s biting his bottom lip and he looks so damn pretty and _he knows it._ He knows how hot those jeans make his legs look, and he knows how much Will wants to peel them off. 

Jesus fucking _Christ._

He trails his hand down Nico’s leg, warm skin brushing against his fingertips every so often because of the rips. Nico shivers a little. Will slips a hand under his shirt; he shivers a lot more.

Five minutes ago, he wanted nothing more than to touch as much of Nico as he could. But now…

He wants to watch Nico fall apart. 

Holy fuck, what is _happening_ to him? Maybe he should go off his meds more often. 

Nico tugs his shirt off by the neck. He drops it to the floor, and all Will can think is finally. 

But also what the fuck?

Because Nico’s muscles-- _well._ Nico’s muscles are so defined he’s going to have a heart attack. Well, of course Nico’s built, with the way he fights he has to maintain some kind of physical fitness, but still, what the _fuck?_

He’s pretty sure some kind of circuit is blown in his brain. He can’t stop staring.

Nico tilts his head. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my _god.”_

Nico grins. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He drags Will down into a kiss, sliding his tongue in immediately. Will’s hands travel up Nico’s back on their own accord, tracing over every bit of warm skin they can find. 

Nico’s hands tug on the hem of his shirt, sending a silent message. Will breaks the kiss for a horrible second, just long enough to tear his shirt off before sealing their lips together once more. They snap back together like magnets, Nico’s hands combing all over him in an effort to search.

One of Nico’s hands curls into his hair, the other wrapping around his hip. Slowly, surely, he lets Will walk him backwards. 

His knees hit the bed. Nico falls. 

For a second, Will just looks. 

He takes a mental picture and stores it in his brainstem, vowing to keep it forever. Because even with the fire in his gut coaxing him to taste, to touch, to take and _keep,_ he can’t ignore the sight before him.

Nico’s hair, splayed across the mattress like a halo. His bare chest, shining in faint city lights streaming through the window. The way his dark eyes stare, _wanting._

Will leans over him. He gets on his knees on the mattress, and leans forward until there’s only inches between him and Nico in any one spot. 

And he finally _takes._

He siphons every last sound, every last gasp from Nico’s mouth, he moans as they grow sweaty and clumsy in their desire just to _touch._

Nico’s legs start to shake as they climb higher, and the sounds he’s making are all sweet and high. Will licks them out, tasting sweat soaked skin with a fervish desperation. But no matter how much he gets, it’s never enough. 

He wants to watch Nico fall apart. He wants to watch him _shatter._ He wants to make him feel so good he can’t form a single _thought._

So he does.

The beginning of the end starts with Nico’s legs wrapped around his hips. _“Fuck,”_ Nico moans, and his legs tighten. _“More.”_

He’s damn well glad he closed the door, because Nico’s _loud._ He’s loud and he says exactly what he wants, and Will’s kind of in love with it. 

“Will,” Nico whines, his hands gripping uselessly at his chest before finally clenching around his hips so tight they might even bruise. “Will, Will, _oh, fuck, right there.”_

If this is what heaven feels like, he wants in. 

Nico’s words start slurring as they climb higher, as the tension in both of their cores starts to wind too tight. His voice is hoarse in Will’s ear as he begs for _faster, harder, please._

Nico’s whole body shakes as he crashes into the high face first. He makes a strangled sound that Will’s knows he’ll hear in his dreams, before dropping back onto the mattress with a final gasp.

Will thinks he loses time. 

In the back of his mind, it sounds like glass shattering. All he can see is black, black like night as he rolls his head back and watches stars form before his eyes

Will crashes into the mattress right by Nico’s side. It’s a full minute before either of them speaks. 

“Fuck,” Nico gasps. 

That pretty much sums it up. 

“Yeah,” Will breathes. “That… that…”

 _“Fuck,”_ Nico repeats, this time with a little more fervor. “Will, holy _shit._ I had no idea you--”

“Get like that?” Will says, wincing a little bit. “Yeah, uh… me neither.”

“Holy _fuck,”_ Nico groans. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had, like, by a _long_ shot. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to _dream_ about this.”

Will grins. “Glad to be of service.” He trails his fingers over Nico’s bicep. Drying sweat glistens across his body. Nico frowns, turning on his side. “Did… did you hear glass shattering? At the end?”

Will blinks. “I… I thought that was just my mind making the windows logging off noise. You heard that too?” 

Nico turns over on his side and points to the lamp over Will’s shoulder. 

The lightbulb is blown to bits. 

Will laughs weakly. “I didn’t know you could do that,” he giggles. 

“Me neither,” Nico murmurs through a grin. “But to be honest, it probably wasn’t me. Most likely a pissed off ghost I accidently let through.”

“A ghost is pissed because you’re getting some?” Will grins quizikally, right before his expression snaps into something full of fear while he suddenly bolts upright. _“Oh fuck.”_

Nico’s expression switches from peaceful and happy to instantly alarmed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Will looks back to Nico, wincing so hard one of his eyes almost closes. “Please don’t tell me your ghost sister just saw us have sex?”

Nico blinks, giving Will a split-second heart attack, but then he exhales in relief. “No, she’s not here.”

Will drops back onto the bed. He groans. “Thank _god._ That would have been awkward.”

Suddenly, he feels really, really tired. All that work is catching up to him; he feels woozy and almost lucid.

“Mmphh,” he slurs. “I’m gonna kiss you tomorrow.”

“You can do a lot more than kiss me,” Nico laughs. “You tired?” He stands up, padding away softly before bringing back a rag to clean them both up. 

“Well,” Will mumbles, as Nico climbs back into bed and pulls the blankets over both of them, “I _did_ do most of the work.”

“We can fix that tomorrow,” Nico points out. “I’m good with my tongue.”

“Fuck,” Will laughs, startled a little awake. 

“We can do that tomorrow too. But sleep now.”

“Sleep now,” Will agrees, curling his head into Nico’s shoulder. “Night.”

Nico merely smiles. 

* * *

There are just some things.

Some things, Annabeth thinks, as she stirs her coffee, that you never should have to hear. Like forks on ceramic plates. Fire alarms at midnight. Good old fashioned nails on chalkboards. 

At the top of that list is your friend’s sex noises.

It’s a certain type of hell when you have to listen to your friends going at it when you’re trying to sleep, because not only can _you_ not sleep, but you also learn things you _really_ don’t need to know. 

Guessed what! She now knows things about Nico and Will that she never, _ever_ needed to know. Things she would like to erase from her mind forever, thank you very much.

By the time Will gets to the breakfast table, a rough half dozen of them are already there. Frank is still sleeping upstairs, dead to the world, and Clarisse is back at the downstairs gym again. Hazel fusses over breakfast at the stove.

Will rummages in the cupboard for a mug, before pouring in coffee and a ridiculous amount of milk. He sits down, completely oblivious.

“So, Will,” Annabeth says, staring straight forward. Piper stifles a laugh already. “How was your night?”

Will frowns in confusion over the rim of his mug. “Uh… fine?” He takes a sip.

“It sounded a little better then fine.”

Will spits out his coffee. His eyes are so wide, you could fit a quarter in his eye socket. “W-what?”

“You may have closed the door, but these walls are _old._ They are old and very, very not soundproof.”

Will’s usually tanned skin is pale white. He stutters for a second. “How- how much did you hear?”

“All of it,” Jason interrupts. “We all sleep on the same floor, dude. There was no escape.”

“Oh God,” Will whispers. His face goes from red to a blushing pink. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry?”

Piper grins slyly, and chimes in, “Why? It sounded like you were having a good time.”

Will bangs his forehead on the table. “Shitttttttttt,” he groans; it’s half muffled by the wood. 

“What’s going on? Will?”

It’s Nico, in a rather adorable hoodie that looks too big for him. He has sweater paws, and his death to everyone vibe is decidedly gone. “Are you ok?”

Leo looks up. There’s a second where he doesn’t say anything, before dropping a fucking atomic bomb. “So, Nico, I didn’t know you were a bottom.”

Nico freezes. Slowly, he closes his eyes then opens them. “Will,” he says softly. “What the everloving fuck is going on?”

“They heard,” Will slams his forehead on the table, “everything.”

Nico eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “W-what?”

“The walls?” Annabeth says, mocking a knock. “Are _not_ soundproof. _Really_ not soundproof.”

“You’re both disgusting,” Thalia proclaims, hunched over a plate of toast. 

“They’re not fifteen anymore, Thals,” Jason says. “But still, guys, gross.”

Nico doesn’t move for a solid second. Then, “Nope.” He spins on his heel and pivots right on out of there.

“Nico!” Will calls, abandoning his coffee to run after him. “Don’t leave me with them!”

Despite everything, Annabeth smiles.

* * *

Will is probably one of the nicest people on the Earth. 

Ok, maybe she’s just saying that because he gave her the pack of cigarettes. 

His explanation was simple. Just a little shrug, and, “I don’t need an excuse to hang out with Nico anymore. Besides, you’re more stressed than I am.”

How he’s so selfless, she doesn’t know.

Annabeth pops a cig into her mouth and holds it steady with two fingers while she clicks down the lighter. The end of the cigarette flares red, and the flame sputters out. Annabeth tucks the lighter in her pocket and takes a drag. 

The acrid smoke fills her mouth, nicotine sending a wave of euphoria through her nerves. Annabeth sits on the stoop, the cold April cement numbing her legs.

She doesn’t mind. 

Annabeth takes another drag, dangling the cigarette between her fingers to let the smoke billow out of her mouth and nose.

It’s more than just the nicotine for her with smoking. Something about inhaling the smoke and letting it spill out of her mouth has always calmed her down more than any drug. A few times, when she was really stressed and there was nothing to take the edge off, she’d stuff some paper towels into a paper joint and light the thing up. No nicotine edge, but it was good enough. 

Annabeth tilts her head up, resting the back of it against the brick, and blows the smoke slowly out of her mouth and up into the sky. It coils in the dark night air like ink in water. 

“Don’t you know smoking’s bad for you?”

Annabeth snaps down, her gaze locking on the source of the noise. A last bit of smoke tumbles out of her mouth as she speaks. “Percy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET MY BOY'S BACK
> 
> so this chapter was a little shorter then they usually are, that's because it's mostly building plot/suspense. So, like, happy filler. It's about to get nuts in here, let me tell you. 
> 
> next time on hsow: a deal is made, and Percy explains what happened.


	7. Don't Let The Party Fool You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Will patch up a battered Percy. The team finally catches some semblance of a break, Thalia included. A deal is proposed, and someone fucks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hewwo,,,,,,, don't kill me.
> 
> it feels like it's been ages since i last updated and if that's the case-- I AM SO SORRY. holidays are always hectic as fuck because the whole fam loves spending christmas time together. i also had to deal with the fact that i would be going to a distanced family meet up with That Cousin who i adored as a kid right up until the moment she threw bible verses at me for being gay and THEN tried to convince me that trump supports gay people and has done more for them then biden. trump, who she also voted for.
> 
> so, yeah, i didn't really want to see her. in the end i didn't, because my other cousin (her sis) had a covid exposure so their family stayed back. *wipes my forehead* PHEWWW!
> 
> yk,,,,,, maybe i should talk to a therapist about that. she was, like, my sister in a sense? my cool, fashion-y cousin sister who always let me borrow her phone to play angry birds? when you're eight, if your cousin wears eyeliner and lets you play angry birds they're immediately an icon. so... shit, omfg, maybe i should talk to someone about that. 
> 
> ANYWAY, ENOUGH OF MY GAY ASS, GO ENJOY THE CHAPTER!!!!

Percy's a _mess._

Annabeth’s cigarette falls from her hand, forgotten and unheeded. It tumbles onto the cement, rolling off the stoop and to the ground. 

Percy bends down with a wince, scoops it up, and sticks the thing in its mouth. If Annabeth wasn’t so shocked, she’d be lecturing him on how fucking disgusting that was.

He takes a drag. Pale smoke spews from his mouth as he exhales, tilting his head back. “God,” he groans. “That takes the edge off.”

“What,” Annabeth gasps, “the  _ fuck?” _ Suddenly, she snaps out of her shocked state, and vaults to her feet. “Oh my god,” she gasps. “Get inside, right now,  _ Percy.” _ She herds him inside the house, sitting him down on one of the couches. His jacket’s missing, and his shirt’s ripped halfway to hell. 

But that’s not the worst part. 

The worst part is his face. 

The bottom of one of his eyes is bruised, red leaking into the sclera. Two long cuts run diagonally down his face, from his cheekbone to about an inch away from his lip. Another cut slices a line through his bottom lip, with blood dried dripping off his chin. There’s a bloody smear on his other cheek, a wound on his forehead, and when he smiles, there’s blood in his mouth. 

And Annabeth hasn’t even gotten past his jaw. “GUYS!!!” She screams. “WILL! THALIA! EVERYBODY!”

Will comes clattering down the stairs, Nico and Piper hot on his heels. He takes one look at Percy on the couch, beaten halfway to hell and covered in blood, and freezes. His blue eyes are blown wide. 

“Will,” Annabeth snaps. “Will, help him!”

It’s like her words snap him out of it. “I’m getting the first aid kit!” Will yells as he spins his heel and dashes back up the stairs. 

Annabeth takes a deep breath and rips Percy’s shirt from the collar to his navel. 

“If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” Percy slurs. Annabeth rolls her eyes and pulls the shirt the rest of the way off. She stares at his chest in horror. 

Bruises, cuts, and scrapes mar the smooth tan skin of his stomach. It has to be worse than it looks, as his naturally olive skin hides bruises. 

“Did they do this to you?” She whispers, big grey eyes wide with horror and empathy. 

Percy nods jerkily. Annabeth touches one of the bruises, a particularly bad one plastered across his diaphragm, and he winces. 

Will tumbles back down the stairs. Around them, everyone’s standing in a semicircle with varying degrees of horror across their faces. Annabeth never noticed them arrive. 

“Well,” Will says, handing Annabeth a wet rag after examining Percy for a second, “you’re going to live.” He’s pale, paler than usual, and his hands are even trembling slightly as he helps Annabeth clean the blood from Percy’s chest. 

“Aww man,” Percy whines. “I was really hoping to join dear old dad.”

Annabeth bites down on a teary smile. “Just sit still,” she whispers. 

She cleans cuts, Will stitches them up. With every bit of blood that comes off Percy’s chest, or his face, the bucket of water Will brought turns pinker. Every shade darker is a shade darker in Annabeth’s soul. 

Now she understands why Nico wanted to kill them. She gets it now. 

Maybe they can plan a double homicide together? That’d be some good sibling bonding. She should talk to him about that after--

_ Percy. _

She can’t stand to look at them like this. The worst part is, she  _ knows  _ him. She knows how he is around pain.

Once, he broke his arm on a mission. He didn’t mention it to anyone for two hours, sure that he was overreacting, then Clarisse clapped him on the arm and he screamed. She’ll remember that scream forever, along with the ride to the emergency room. 

If he’s out of it, it has to be worse then she could imagine. 

“Percy,” Will says, looking straight into his eyes.  _ “Percy. _ Did they give you anything? Drugs, narcotics, poisons?”

“Nope,” Percy groans. “Just a lot of… punching. And knives.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” Annabeth growls, swiping blood from yet another cut on the inside of his bicep. “Hey Nico?” she asks, looking over her shoulder. “Want to plan a double homicide?”

“Neeks, if you do, you can count yourself single.” Will doesn’t even move his gaze, still focused intently on stitching a bad cut across Percy’s shoulder. 

“Oooh,” Percy slurs. “You two are together? Nice.”

“Yeah. Nice,” Annabeth snorts. Percy looks at her in lucid confusion, and she shakes her head a little. “The walls aren’t soundproof.”

“Ho  _ ho.” _

“Can you not air my dirty laundry to everyone?” Will groans. His face is bright red, and he actually looks  _ really  _ self-concious. “Please. I’ve been embarrassed enough.”

Annabeth sticks out her bottom lip. “Oh you poor, sensitive soul.”

Will pauses in his stitching for a second to stick out his bottom lip. “I give you my cigarettes, and this is how you repay me?”

“I thought you were quitting,” Percy mumbles. His eyes are starting to flutter into the back of his head. He must be tired out of his  _ mind. _

“I was. Am. Did,” Annabeth stutters. “You-- I just needed to relax.”

“Mmphh,” Percy mumbles. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep.”

Annabeth smiles softly. “You do that,” she whispers.

The other eight of them watch awkwardly as Annabeth carries Percy in her arms for the second time in twenty four hours. She lays him on his bed gently, sure to tug a light t-shirt over his frame.

When she comes downstairs, the rest of them are assembled like a choir. Hazel bends over and swipes a bit of blood off the couch with a wince. 

“He’s asleep,” she states the obvious.

“Yeah,” Nico asks, “quick question. What’s that?”

He points to a thick black briefcase resting by the door. Annabeth faintly remembers something falling to the floor when she dragged Percy into the house, but then, she’d paid it no mind. 

Next to her, Thalia pales. “How--” She cuts herself off, electric blue eyes wide with awe and something else Annabeth can’t name. “How did he get this?”

“No idea,” Annabeth answers. “I didn’t really notice at first-- I was too concerned with… you know, the blood.”

Thalia moves slowly, surely, almost like she’s in a daze. She picks up the briefcase by the handle, sitting down on the couch and pulling it into her lap. She mutters a few things at it, picking at the latches before flicking the side.

“Yep,” she says, licking her lips. Thalia looks up, her blank expression starting to twist into a smile. “This is a briefcase.”

They all remain very unimpressed at that. 

“Yes…” Nico deadpans, waving his hands a little. “It’s a briefcase.”

“No,” Thalia corrects. “It’s a  _ briefcase.” _

Across the room, Hazel buries her face in her hands. “Thals--”

“It’s a Commision briefcase. It’s a  _ time machine.” _

Nico goes from bored to shocked in a split second, “Wait, what the  _ fuck?” _

“A time machine?”

“Thalia, you’re my favorite now.”

Thalia runs her hands over the leather outside of the boxy case. “I’m not kidding,” she confirms. “These were what we’d use to jump from time to time back at the Commision. They have hundreds of these briefcases, but every team gets one for a mission.” She looks up, and her faint smile spreads into a grin. “And if Percy got theirs…”

“They can’t go back,” Annabeth marvels. “They can’t call for help.”

“It’s not just that,” Thalia adds. “Losing your briefcase-- it’s probably the worst thing that can happen. I have no  _ idea _ what the punishment is. They’ll be  _ desperate _ to get this back. And guess who definitely knows who caused the apocalypse.”

“...The Commision?” Piper guesses, and Thalia snaps her fingers. 

“Bingo!” Thalia is grinning fully now, so wide it looks like she might start dancing around the room. “Annabeth, tell your boyfriend he’s a genius and I love him.”

She blushes. “Not my boyfriend, and he’ll think you were high when you said that.”

“I am high,” Thalia breathes. “On  _ dopamine, _ you motherfuckers!” She whoops in happiness, tucking the briefcase into the couch cushions. “God, I’m going to go get a drink.”

“All we have is scotch?” Piper says, phrasing it like a question. 

“I don’t care!”

Thalia comes marching back into the living room with a glass of amber liquid. “I say, we all sleep for a million years.”

Annabeth squints. “We just got up, like… four hours ago.”

“Sleep!” Thalia cries. “I’m gonna take a nap.”

She doesn’t even bother to go upstairs, flopping onto the couch face first. Jason lifts the glass from her hand and places it on a side table. “She’s had a rough week,” he says with a wink.

Piper snorts.  _ “I’ll _ say.” She sweeps up the half-finished glass of scotch and knocks the rest of it back. “It’s good to know we have a  _ chance _ to survive.”

Annabeth digs her fingers into her eyes. “I’m gonna go upstairs and sleep with Percy.” She starts off towards the stairs, then freezes at the foot of them, just realizing what she’s said. 

“Not, like, sleep with him,” she protests, spinning on her heel. Hazel has a shit-eating grin all over her face. 

“You know,” Annabeth explains desperately. “Like, sleep next to him. Make sure he’s ok. We’re not--” She groans, and slams a palm into her forehead. “Alright, I’m gone.” She gives them one last brisk wave before bolting up the stairs and into the safe haven of Percy’s room. 

She leans against the door when she shuts it, fighting the urge to crumple to the floor. Not because of exhaustion, or stress, just… embarrassment. 

Oh god. Is this how Will felt?

Shit. 

Because now, she’s thinking about having sex with Percy. 

_ Do NOT! _ She scolds her mind.  _ For the love of God, do NOT! _

Her brain does anyway. 

It wouldn’t… be too bad.

“Fuck,” Annabeth mutters, punching herself in the thigh. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,  _ stop thinking about this.” _

Her brain cooperates, for a split second, then decides to be a rascal again. 

“Fuck you,” she mutters to it, giving up on her attempt to keep standing. She slides to the floor, sitting with her knees to her chin like this is a Disney movie. 

She rests her head on her knees, letting it tilt to the side. Percy’s face is just visible at her eye level, all stitched up and cleaned up and innocent in sleep.

Annabeth rests her head against the back of the door, the hard wood comforting and real against her skull.

She curls up on the floor, right there, refusing to let herself anywhere near Percy. 

~

She wakes to the sun in her eyes. 

“Ughh,” someone groans. It’s Percy. He swings his legs off the edge of the bed, rubbing at his head. “What did I say about me sleeping in jeans?”

Annabeth pulls herself off the floor and props her back against the door. “What did you expect me to do, just pull your pants off?”

Percy tilts his head to the side, pursuing his lips. “True,” he admits. 

There, on his lip, that damn ring gleams. She has no idea how the thing managed to survive hours of torture, but there it is, shining like the fucking sun. 

For a second, she wonders what it would be like to taste it. 

_ Nope, _ Annabeth scolds herself.  _ Not going there. _

“Ughh,” Percy repeats, stretching his arms. Annabeth doesn’t miss the wince hidden in there somewhere. “Well, now that I am a new man,” he says, in an awkward accident she can’t quite place, “what shall we do?”

Annabeth grins, and hides it with her hand. “Thalia’s quite overjoyed at the briefcase you brought back.”

Percy snaps his fingers. “The briefcase! Yes! I thought a time machine would be a good late birthday present.”

“You idiot,” Annabeth laughs, stumbling to her feet as her joints crack. Percy winces as her hips let out a couple gunshot-esque sounds.

“You good?” he asks, with an alarmed look. 

“Yeah,” she returns with a grimace. “Floor pains. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Annabeth, you’re twenty two.”

“Shut up, Percy.”

The living room isn’t deserted when they get there. It’s actually filled to the brim. 

Hazel and Frank are sitting criss cross on the floor, some board game in between them. Piper and Jason are mushed into the same armchair, Jason reading a book while Piper taps away at an ancient looking DS. 

Thalia’s still passed out on the couch. Judging by the snores every other second, she’s out cold. 

Clarisse, unsurprisingly, is on her own in a rather formidable looking chair. Her legs are propped over one the armrests, and she sips a cup of coffee with her eyes closed. Leo’s leaning against the side of her chair, a little flame extending from his finger. Bits of what looks like a radio are scattered around him, apparently forgotten in his quest to try and get Clarisse’s chair to burn. 

He is decidedly unsuccessful. Thank god.

Nico and Will have commandeered the couch Percy was lying on earlier-- Nico’s legs are so entwined with Will’s, it’d be difficult to tell which leg belongs to which person if they weren’t wearing different colored jeans. 

“Chill time?” Annabeth asks as she flops onto a rather awkward settee. 

Piper nods, not even looking up from her DS.

Annabeth flicks her eyebrows up. She digs her phone out of her pocket, wincing at the emails that have accumulated over the last three days. After scrolling through unread texts, unnoticed emails, and a lack of people really caring, she tosses her phone to the side and just vows to leave it alone. 

Annabeth catches Percy looking at her, she frowns. She gives him the universal expression for,  _ What? _

He holds up a finger, like  _ wait, _ and disappears from the room. 

Annabeth rolls her eyes endearingly. There seems to be an unspoken rule of silence set up throughout the room. 

She glances over to the couch across from her. Will absentmindedly cards his left hand through Nico’s hair, his right one turning the pages of a book. Nico seems to be on the verge of asleep and awake, his eyes fluttering occasionally with his head laying across Will’s lap. Will rests his book on top of Nico’s head, and the whole thing just looks… different. 

All of Annabeth’s thoughts are interrupted by a crackling that sounds distinctly like music.

“No,” She whispers, breaking the silence. Nico looks up. Piper lowers her DS. “Huh?”

Annabeth smiles wryly and shakes her head. She points up. 

From the ceiling, the opening notes of  _ Burn The House Down  _ by AJR echo from the ceiling. Percy tumbles down the stairs, shrugging and looking irrationally proud of himself. 

“You didn’t,” Annabeth scolds. 

He holds out his hand. “Dance party?”

Jason folds his book closed. Leo gives up on trying to set the leather on fire; the flame sputters out in his hand. 

Annabeth rolls her eyes and snatches his hand, running out to the expanse beyond the couches. 

And they start to ballroom dance. 

“Come on!” Annabeth yells. “It’s fun!” Percy spins her around, and she laughs as he pulls her back in.

Surprisingly, it’s Will who stands first. He tilts his head, holding out a hand to Nico, who’s still draped over the couch. 

The latter grabs his hand with a poorly hidden smile. Will laughs as he drags Nico out, spinning him around before sliding an arm behind his waist.

“You know,” Percy murmurs as he spins her around again, “I think this is the first time I’m happy the old man gave us ballroom lessons.”

Annabeth groans and rests her head against his shoulder. “I  _ hated _ those lessons.”

Percy shrugs. “You were never much good at it.”

Annabeth smacks his arm playfully. Percy jerks his chin at something behind her. “Someone was, though.”

She turns around, craning over her shoulder to see. 

Will, in skinny jeans and a pair of navy blue converse, manages to twirl Nico around like a professional dancer.

“Shit,” Annabeth laughs. “He’s really good.”

Behind them, Piper and Jason soar by with perfect poise. Annabeth notices that their stances switch-- one moment Piper’s the girl, then the next second Jason is.

Hazel and Frank, of course, dance like the weirdest combination of giggly teens and grandparents she’s ever seen. 

The song above them runs out, sliding into a new one. Instantly, the mood changes. 

She knows this song.  _ Leviathan,  _ G-Easy. 

A mood like syrup descends over the room. Sticky, sweet, and never sickly. Slow, like flies in amber.

Annabeth laughs, and flips a few of her curls out of her face. She whips Percy forward, pulling them backwards in a box step, before spinning them around and doing the same thing in the other direction. 

Percy’s breath is hot against her face. The music drifts over both of them.  _ Lucifer, Leviathan, he is I, girl, and I am him.  _

Behind her, Will and Nico are dangerously close to grinding. She’s pretty sure somebody’s lips are on somebody’s neck. Piper and Jason are kinda already going at it. 

Hazel and Frank are courteously ignoring them both.

She and Percy keep getting closer. Another millimeter every second, his breath ghosting on her cheeks, their legs fit together like pieces of a puzzle. She’s inches away from his face, only inches, and then--

The music cuts out.

And suddenly, it’s like their world is made of ice in warm water.

_ Crack. _

Annabeth steps back. So does Percy. 

He grimaces, doing his best to pull off his usual don’t-give-a-shit troublemaker grin but not quite making it there. “My phone must have died,” he grumbles. “It was at, like, seven percent.”

“We need to have dance parties more often,” Piper declares, slightly out of breath. “That was  _ too _ much fun.”

Annabeth grins as best as she can, and flops down in a chair. Piper immediately resumes her DS activities, this time somehow functioning with Jason on her lap. Percy falls face first onto the couch, groaning slightly. 

“Isn’t that… not a good idea?” Annabeth asks. “Will? Tell him that’s not a good idea?”

Will looks over and frowns. “Dude, aren’t you in so much pain right now?”

Percy holds out a weak thumbs up. “I’m fine,” he wheezes. “Just burning. Everywhere. They got in a couple crotch shots and so I might have to cut a bitch.”

Piper blinks. “I can’t tell whether he’s talking about the assassins or his nuts.”

“AAAAND ENOUGH CONVERSATION ABOUT PERCY’S JUNK!” Thalia announces, seemingly arising from the dead. “I did  _ not _ live nine years in the apocalypse for this! Y’all need to grow the fuck up.”

“We  _ are _ grown up,” Jason insists. “Very much so.”

Across the room, Percy groans and keels into a fetal position. Piper throws a pillow at him, and he whines in defeat.

“So grown up,” Thalia sighs. “Right.”

Just as Annabeth’s about to laugh, a metal capsule about the size of a skinny Coke can comes hurtling through the front window, crashing into the coffee table and breaking two of its legs while sending a spray of glass all over them.

“Bomb!” Thalia shrieks, ducking behind the couch. She pulls Percy with her.

Jason lifts the can up with his powers and hurtles it towards the ceiling, the rest of them shrieking and ducking for cover. 

But… it doesn’t blow up. 

Piper is the first to peek her head out. “It’s… not a bomb,” she murmurs. “I think it’s a message in a bottle?”

Thalia crawls out of her hiding place, leaving Percy groaning on his stomach. Jason brings the cann down; Thalia snatches up the golden-gilded bottle, and pulls off the top before tugging out a roll of paper from inside.

“They want to meet,” she says, her voice soft and marvelling. “They want to exchange the briefcase for our lives.”

Percy frowns. “That doesn’t sound right.” He scoots his way over as best he can while lying flat on his stomach. 

“It means they won’t kill us if we give them the briefcase,” Thalia says, scanning the letter. “It’s probably a trick-- they’ll try to shoot us down once we get there.”

“Are we not going?” Will asks. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t really want to get shot down.”

“You might stay,” Annabeth says dismissively, “but everyone with powers can go. They won’t know what hit them.”

Will bites his lip and looks down, flopping on the couch. “So that’s your ‘great plan’, then? Go in there and just knock them back? Or did you forget you’re only invisible and not fucking Superman?”

Annabeth squints, peering at Will’s rueful expression. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Just because I don’t have powers doesn’t mean I’m not useful!” Will exclaims. “Hell, I just stitched up  _ your _ boyfriend and I didn’t get so much as a thank you, but now when you’re about to send  _ my  _ boyfriend into a death trap, I can’t go? I suddenly don’t matter?”

Annabeth chooses to ignore the Percy comment. “I’d be going too!”

“That doesn’t matter! Shouldn’t you take a second before assuming we all want to follow you into possible death?”

“What the fuck, Will!” Annabeth screams. “Do you know what these people have done? They tortured Percy for  _ hours! _ They tried to kill all of us!”

“I damn well know what they did, I’m the one they took hostage!”

The air around them starts to shimmer. Annabeth ignores it, ignores the fact that someone else must be going off. Her stomach is simmering with rage.

He has no  _ right.  _ He has no right, after getting to stay home when they went on all those missions, when he slept soundly while she tossed and turned from nightmares, when  _ he _ got the easy life and she got royally fucked.

Annabeth stands her ground. “Well, at least I wasn’t useless enough to get used as live bait. Good thing your boyfriend was there to save your ass, because I sure wouldn’t have risked it.”

Every lightbulb in the room  _ shatters.  _

Annabeth doesn’t have time to figure out who it was, because Will stands up with so much force he pushes the couch back. “Fuck you,” he chokes out. “For the record, I would have done anything to save you if it were you with the gun to your head. Because we’re  _ family.” _ He shakes his head, tears swimming in his eyes. “Guess I’m not family enough for you.”

He storms out of the room. 

There’s silence. A small chink of glass falls off from Hazel’s curls onto the floor. 

“For the record?” Nico says, standing up. “I’m gonna try really hard not to kill you for that.”

He walks out of the room. 

Annabeth looks around, her cheeks suddenly fiery red. She doesn’t say anything;

nothing sounds right. 

“Grow up, Annabeth,” Piper whispers, before scrambling out of the room to Nico and Will.

One by one, everyone files out. Percy is the last to leave. His joking behavior is gone, his green eyes no longer happy but ashamed. 

Ashamed of  _ her. _

Percy shakes his head, opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then walks away. 

Annabeth drops to her knees and weeps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no character is perfect :)
> 
> trust me, my boy will is gonna get some more showtime, especially after this incident. things will be Officially Revealed (catch me writing that chapter with anna in mind, i see you, you've been vERY PATIENT DON'T WORRY IT'S COMING) and yes, we'll be getting some fucking plot next chapter. thank you and goodnight. 
> 
> next time on hsow: the meet up, a realization, and a brush with our villain. our REAL villain.


	8. Apologies For The Bumpy Ride, We're Being Shot At

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to go to shit. Annabeth comes to terms with what she's said. Will finally gets to embrace his newfound happiness with Nico. The team attends the meet-up, and Annabeth gets a surprise visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT THAT MY UPDATING SHEDULE IS GETTING BETTER
> 
> this chapter is longer then usual-- 5.5k!!! that's because a _lot_ of important stuff happens. Keep your eyes peeled!!!

“What the fuck?” Will whispers to the cool April air. “What the _fuck?”_

“I don’t know, I think it was kind of awesome.”

Nico’s at his shoulder like a flying shadow. Will curses, flinching out of fear. “Jeez,” he mumbles. “You scared me.”

Nico stares at the street for a second, then pivots on to the side. He grabs Will’s jaw, and pulls him into a kiss. 

Nico’s lips are soft. He digs his hand into Will’s curls, bending his spine to fit with the curve of Will’s chest. 

Will slides a hand over the small of Nico’s back to steady them both. Nico kisses him gently, delicately. It’s lighter then any kiss they’ve ever had, and there’s something bittersweet about it.

“You matter, do you hear me?” Nico says, as soon as their lips break. “I don’t care what anyone says, you’re _not_ expendable.”

“Ditto with the gay bitch,” Piper announces, materializing out of nowhere.

Will whips around, swearing under his breath. “Can you freaky assassin people stop _scaring_ me half to death?”

Piper grins. “Sorry, no deal.” She sits delicately on top of one of the chimneys cemented to the roof that have long since been out of order. “Everyone else just left Annabeth, by the way. Even Percy. What she said was… well, it was really fucking wrong.” Piper fiddles with one of the braids in her hair. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Will grimaces. He sits down on one of the twin chimneys, Nico perching on the one next to him. “Yeah, the thing is, you’ve all kind of been treating me like shit since I was a kid.”

Piper looks down. Her hands still. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbles with a quiet voice. “I’m sorry. I never really thought about it… I don’t know.”

“Kids are cruel,” Will shrugs. “I had Nico for most of it. That was enough.”

Nico’s sad expression twists into a happy smile. “Aww, you had a crush on me!”

“Of _course_ I had a crush on you, have you seen yourself? You’re pretty damn crush-able, babe.”

Piper fumbles for her phone. “You don’t mind if I record this, do you?”

Nico laughs suddenly. “Bia says she approves,” he clarifies. 

“Wait,” Will realizes. He stares into the space towards Nico’s left, where Bia usually lurks. “Right! Bianca! Do I have your blessing?”

Nico digs a hand into his eyes to hide his blushing face. “She says yes,” Nico groans, tugging on his hair. “Bia, oh my _god.”_ His eyes seem to follow something drifting off the building. “She’s gonna go see a movie,” Nico says. 

“A-- A what now?”

Nico blinks. “A movie. You know… at the movie theater? She does it a lot to pass the time. Apparently I’m a boring person, and the fact that I hate watching Friends makes me despicable.”

“I guess I thought she just… you know what, I don’t _know_ what I thought she does all day.” Will tilts his head up, letting the sunshine fall on his face. “It must suck being dead.”

There’s a few moments of silence. A few moments where Will just gets to hold his boyfriend’s hand and stare at the sun.

Said sun turns the edges of Nico’s hair to gold. It coasts over his olive skin, casting him in a darker tone. 

It makes him look beautiful. Even _more_ beautiful than he always is. 

He’s seen Nico a thousand ways. He’s seen him as he normally is, indifferent to the world with a coffee cup in his hands. He’s seen him cry over his sister’s grave, and he’s seen him laugh in pure happiness over something as small as a secret. He’s seen the exhilaration in Nico’s eyes when he’s pinned down. He’s seen all of him, physically, mentally, and a million ways in between.

But he’s still yet to see it all. And he can’t wait.

Will can never remember feeling like this. It’s as though his body is imbued with honey, and sunbeams, and he feels so heavy and _warm_ that he never wants to leave here. He knows this will be a moment he’ll remember when he’s sad, just by the pure _flood_ of emotions he’s feeling. 

Love, for Nico. Happiness, from Piper’s support. Gratitude to the both of them for leaving Annabeth to stand on his side. 

But most of all, just love. All he can feel is love. 

So, Will goes back to staring at the sun. 

* * *

Annabeth picks up the glass. It feels like it’s the least she can do, after what she’s said. 

It’s not like she regrets it all. She’s right, isn’t she? Will could get hurt. He could get _killed._

But what she said was…

Annabeth swallows. The look in Percy’s eyes keeps coming back to her, the horrified shame in them now burned in her mind. She sighs, picking up a big chunk of glass and chucking it into the trash can. 

“I sure hope you’re feeling like shit right now.”

Annabeth sighs. She looks down to the shadow on the floor. “Don’t worry, I am.”

“I’m not worrying.”

Thalia’s words hit her like a flurry of bricks. Annabeth whips around. “What do you want me to say,” she grits out. “That I’m sorry? Because I am! I never meant to say that he wasn’t worth--”

“Wasn’t worth saving? Because that’s what you did. Bitch move, Blondie.”

Annabeth hangs her head. “I didn’t mean it,” she mumbles. “I just got caught up in the argument, and-- he’s _wrong,_ if he goes he might die, this is a good chance to take out the people who are trying to kill us, and--” Annabeth falters. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Thalia shakes her head. Her electric blue eyes bore into Annabeth like screws into drywall. “You still think you’re right.”

“I-- How am I not?”

Thalia takes a step forward. “You were right about needing to go, but you were _wrong_ about dismissing him as less than a person.”

Annabeth licks her lips, and tries to look anywhere but Thalia’s eyes. She fails. They’re like magnets, pulling her closer by the second. 

“Just because he doesn’t have powers doesn’t mean he’s _useless,_ you’ve got to get that into your thick skull. He patched up Percy’s broken body today, and you just--”

“I know,” Annabeth admits miserably. “I-- I don’t know what’s going on with me--”

“That’s not an excuse!” Thalia cries. Her sapphire eyes are shiny with tears. “What you did was petty and stupid and it _hurt,_ it hurt him, couldn’t you see that you hurt someone?” Thalia bites her cheek and shakes her head. “We’re leaving for the meet-up in half an hour,” she sighs. “Don’t be late, you’re on thin fucking ice already.”

Thalia walks away and leaves her alone with a fresh batch of tears. 

* * *

The car ride is fucking awful. 

No one really talks. Well, to start off, there’s nine of them crammed in one car. 

Nico refused to come. Annabeth doesn’t really blame him.

They’re all armed. Piper has the gun from underneath the armchair tucked into her belt, and Annabeth has a second from the stash stored under the floor in the pantry closet. Clarisse too-- the rest of them have explosive enough powers that they don’t have to worry about firearms. 

Piper’s discussing plans with Jason and Hazel about bending bullets into their enemies to pass the time. Clarisse halfheartedly turns on the radio, shitty eighties music becomes a new background noise.

On either side of Annabeth is Percy and Thalia. 

Yeah, that’s what makes it fucking awful. 

Neither of them will look her in the eye. 

Percy won’t even talk to her. Thalia’s words stung like a thousand bees earlier, but at least she said _something._ Percy’s silence sticks out like a sore thumb, especially when it’s only to her. 

So, she settles for disassembling and reassembling her gun as fast as she can in her lap. She goes through the motions six times before Clarisse pulls the car to a stop. 

“I’ll stay inside,” she volunteers. “Got the briefcase?”

Thalia holds it up. She then hands it off to Leo.

“If I tell you, torch it.”

Leo grins maniacally. “I’ll be happy to.”

“Okay, you little arsonist,” Piper jokes. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Annabeth slides her magazine in, it settles into place with a satisfying click. She tucks the gun into the back of her waistband, covering it with her shirt. 

“Here’s the plan,” Thalia says. “I’ll be talking to them. _Alone._ I know the Commission, and I know how these two are gonna play this out. I need you all to be my backup-- they already saw the shit Hazel, Jason, and Annabeth can wreak. And they’re gonna guess the rest of you got shit going on too. Can you do that? That’s what I’m counting on.”

“Fear?”

“Intimidation,” Thalia corrects. Jason frowns, confused, and Thalia waves a hand. “If you’re going to be illegal, you might as well do it classy.” She loads her handgun with three sharp clicks-- magazine, then the safety back and forth.

Thalia grins. “If I die, I want a statue.”

Jason blinks.

“That was a joke! I’m gonna be fine.”

A beat up blue car comes into sight behind them, Annabeth’s the first to see it. “Uhh… guys?”

The car speeds past, showering the nine of them with a fine layer of dusty dirt. Hazel sneezes.

“That’s them,” Thalia says, tucking the gun into her waistband. “Alright. Jason, I trust you to handle briefcase matters, but you can leave demolition to Leo. _Only_ if the chance comes up.”

Leo sighs. Jason gives her a thumbs up like a tired parent. 

Thalia gives them a parting nod, before spinning on her heel and walking over to the two figures now getting out of the car. 

Annabeth tenses, gritting her teeth together. Her thoughts are swimming with murderous intentions. _These people have Percy’s blood on their hands. They beat him halfway to death and there is_ nothing _she can do about it._

“If you’re thinking of doing anything, don’t,” Piper advises, just as Otrera pulls out a gun on Thalia. Leo clenches the briefcase tighter, holding up an open palm that’s ready to summon a flame. 

But, as always, Thalia stays cool under pressure. There’s a few seconds where the tension is thick enough to cut with a butterknife, and then Hylla turns to a telephone stand and starts dialing a number. Thalia turns around with a smug grin on her face.

“What happened?” Jason asks. “Are they… not going to kill us?”

Thalia only smirks. “I’ve got a meeting with the Handler.”

“What?”

Thalia huffs. “The Handler! She’s the big lady around the Commision. I have to talk to her about the apocalypse. We can’t run from these people forever. We have the upper hand over Hylla and Otrera for now, but it’s only a matter of time before they kill us in our sleep and take the briefcase. They’re smart, and ninety percent of us are idiots.”

Leo frowns at that. “I feel like that was targeted at me.”

“Me too,” Percy tacks on. “But… they’re not going to kill us anymore?”

Thalia shrugs, and sits on the hood of the car. “They know they couldn’t if they wanted too.”

“So what do we do now?”

Thalia perches her chin on her fist. She looks remarkably chipper for an assassin negotiating the end of the world. “We wait.”

Annabeth starts tapping her fingernails awkwardly on the roof of the car. She pulls at her hair awkwardly, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Are you tapping Jingle Bells or am I going insane?” Percy blurts out. 

Annabeth ducks her head and tries not to smile. “Yeah, it’s Jingle Bells.”

Cue another awkward silence. 

Annabeth refrains from tapping again, and instead smacks her hand on the roof of the car. “Okay, I have to say something.”

Everyone’s heads suddenly turn to her, and Annabeth swallows sharply. “What I said to Will was wrong, and stupid, and probably self obsorbed in the fact that Nico was able to save him when I couldn’t. I didn’t mean any of it, and I’m sorry.”

There’s a short silence. 

“Well, it’s a start,” Piper mumbles. “You gotta say that to Will and Nico, too.”

Annabeth nods, ashamed. “I know.”

A ripple goes through the atmosphere. 

Annabeth immediately turns around, searching for the source of the distortion. That almost looked like--

She turns back around, and her friends are frozen in place. 

“Uhh,” Annabeth stutters. “Percy? Piper?” She waves her hand in front of Percy’s face; he doesn’t move an inch. “What the fuck?” she says to herself. 

“I see you have the same foul language as your sister.”

Annabeth whips her head up. Standing in the middle of the street is a woman with perfectly coiffed hair, red lips, and impossibly thin high heels. 

“My sister?” Annabeth stutters. Her jaw sets, and she narrows her eyes. “You’re the Handler.”

“Call me Circe, dear,” the woman says, smiling like she’s just smelt something rotten. She walks over to Thalia, frozen on the hood of the car with a pensive look on her face. 

“Such a shame,” Circe tuts. “She was a good agent.”

Annabeth cuts to the chase. “What do you want?”

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” She asks. “Your sister called the meeting.”

“Would you--” Annabeth huffs. “Thalia is not my sister.”

“Oooh, I know,” the Handler chides. “I understand why, though. I’m assuming you don’t want to be related to the pretty one over there.” Circe gestures to Percy, his stationary lip ring glinting in the sun. 

The Hander turns back to Annabeth, white teeth glinting behind painted lips. “Go on, then. Tell me what you want, Annabeth.”

“An end,” Annabeth insists. “The apocalypse to be prevented. These two assholes off our tail. I’d take them dead, but I’m working with what I can here.”

Circe’s polite smile stretches into a wide one. “Oooh!” she cries. “I like your initiative, Number Two.”

Annabeth pulls the gun out of her waistband and aims it flat at Circe’s heart. “Don’t call me that.”

“Risque,” Circe wonders. “Oh go ahead, darling. I’m merely one cog in a corporate machine. Cut me down, two shall rise, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Can you do it?” Annabeth asks, ignoring her sickly sweet drivel. “Stop the apocalypse?”

“You want the truth?” Circe admits. Annabeth nods. 

“No.”

Annabeth resists the urge to huf like a child. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’m saying it can’t be done,” Circe informs. “Que sera sera, what’s meant to be--” She bends down to Annabeth’s height. _“Is meant to be.”_

“The murder of seven _billion_ people is meant to be?”

“Of course!” Circe exclaims. “It is, after all, humanity’s fault. Why not let humanity take the blame?”

“Humanity’s fault,” Annabeth murmurs. “You know who causes this? Who is it!”

Circe only laughs. “The answer, my dear,” she whispers. “Is right in front of your face.”

Circe flips a switch on the top of her briefcase. “It’s time for me to go, Little One.”

“Wait, stop--!”

Circe disappears with a laugh in a swirl of blue light.

Everything unfreezes. The birds start flying again. The wind continues to blow. Tumbleweeds resume their tumbling. 

“Annabeth!” Thalia cries. “How did you get--”

A bullet sails past her and punches through the roof of the car. Annabeth whips her head around-- Otrera’s handgun is pointed right at her.

Annabeth shrieks and turns invisible. She races back, skirting to the side to avoid the bullet that would have punched into her chest.

“What the hell are they doing?” Hazel shrieks. She and Frank are on the ground, the latter covering her body with his.

“I don’t know!”

Jason stops the barrage of bullets that comes flying at them long enough for all nine of them to pile into the car.

“Is Annabeth in!” Clarisse yells. Hazel frowns, and smacks a hand over Annabeth’s invisible face. 

“OW!” Annabeth cries.

“Yup, she’s back here!”

The car pulls away. Bullets pound into the hood; the back window shatters. Annabeth ducks her head to avoid the spray of glass.

She reappears, turning visible with a sigh and a shower of glass falling from her hair. “Well, that was eventful.”

“Annabeth, what the hell happened?” Thalia asks. “One second you were right next to me, then--”

“Circe,” Annabeth gasps. 

Thalia freezes. “I never told you her name--”

“She froze all of you. In time. She talked to me.”

Thalia blinks, then huffs out a little sigh. “But I asked…” she trails off. “Fine. What did she say?”

“She asked what I wanted. I said an end to the apocalypse, and then she said ‘Que sera, sera’ like the _bitch_ she is.”

Leo raises his hand; they start to speed back into town. “...Is that Latin?”

“It means ‘what’s meant to be, is meant to be’.” Annabeth explains. “She’s basically saying 7 billion people are meant to die.”

“What did she say next?” Thalia questions. “Did she give you any clues as to who it is?”

“Yes,” Annabeth confirms. “She said it was humanity’s fault, and humanity should pay the price. I asked if she knew who caused it, and--” Annabeth stops, licking her lips. “She said ‘The answer, my dear, is right in front of your face’.”

There’s a moment of silence. The car goes through a rough patch of gravel, everyone jostles into each other. 

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Thalia asks. She looks down at her lap. “I cause the apocalypse.”

“I don’t think so,” Annabeth says. “Circe made it sound like it’s something I’ve never thought about before. Could it be… someone else we know?”

Thalia bites her bottom lip, and shakes her head unhappily. “Who else would we know with the potential to destroy the world?”

From then on, they drive in silence. 

* * *

Will never thought he’d have this. 

Nico’s sleeping with limbs splayed all over his mattress, stupidly skinny and lithe as they are. It seems crazy and insane that he knows what those thighs look like bare. 

Even more importantly, he knows the little smile Nico makes whenever they kiss. He knows the way Nico likes to play with his curls. He knows the way Nico loves, fast and desperate and in a way that’s absolutely _devastating._

He _knows_ Nico. 

Something about that is threateningly beautiful. 

“Mmmph,” Nico slurs, digging his head deeper into the pillow. His hair is going to be a mess. “Why’re you staring at me?”

Will smiles softly at Nico’s bleary eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he admits, blushing a little in embarrassment. 

Nico bites his bottom lip through a smile. “You can’t just _say_ that.”

“Yes, I can!” Will protests, grinning wide. He jumps onto the bed, crawling over Nico and bracing his hands on either side of his head. He stares down, right into Nico’s starlight eyes. “Nico, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Nico pulls him down so fast, Will loses his balance and crashes right into him. “Oof,” He mumbles. His face is mushed against Nico’s cheek, their limbs tangled with each other’s, and Will can’t help but giggle a little at how clumsy that just was. 

Nico laughs. He pushes Will off him gently; the latter turns on his side to get a proper look at Nico’s face. Will leans forward, and brushes a stray strand of hair behind Nico’s ear. “Beautiful,” he repeats, voice barely a whisper.”

“Let’s try this again, huh?” Nico murmurs, cupping a delicate hand beneath Will’s chin and bringing their lips together.

Nico’s face is warm from the blankets. His lips are soft as ever, and he wraps himself around Will with hands that run hot.

Nico pulls the duvet over them, the blanket of warmth making Will feel so snug and happy. It feels like there’s a star in his chest, radiating heat and light. He presses kisses down Nico’s jaw, going as far up as he can go before reversing his path. Nico makes little noises of content, and Will has never felt as happy as this. 

“Ughh,” Nico groans. “I want to go to sleep, but I’m still wearing skinny jeans.”

Will laughs into his neck. “I mean, I won’t object to you taking off your pants.” He teases one of the rips in Nico’s jeans for good measure. 

Nico tenses, eyes fluttering a little. “Shit, Will.”

“Huh?”

“...you’re hot.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Nico laughs, wrapping a warm arm around Will’s waist beneath the blankets. “You’re also one of a kind.”

“I mean, maybe. You, though, _damn._ It’s going to be a bit hard to find another boy with thighs like yours.”

“Don’t forget the necromancy,” Nico giggles. 

Will snaps his fingers. “Yes, the necromancy. I’m a sucker for a boy who can talk to dead people.”

Nico laughs again. His soft hair brushes against Will’s chin. “You’re different today,” he mumbles into Will’s shirt. “Lighter.”

“I’m just happy,” Will admits. “I don’t think I’ve been this happy in--” 

Will stops.  
He tries to remember another time like this. Another moment when he felt as light, as warm and protected as this. When he felt as though he _truly_ belonged in this world. 

He can’t.

“A long time,” he goes with. “It’s been a long time.”

“I’m happy too,” Nico whispers. “I haven’t felt-- not since Bia died. Not happy like this.”

He smiles, it’s bittersweet. “And now the world is ending.”

Will tilts his head, pressing a kiss into Nico’s hair. “With a little luck, it won’t.”

“Mmph,” Nico slurs. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep.”

Will combs his hands through Nico’s hair. “Go ahead,” he whispers. “I’ll be here.”

He’ll _always_ be here.

* * *

He wakes with Nico’s face to his. 

The latter smiles, and kisses him. 

Nico’s lips are chaste, soft, and a fucking _miracle._ He looks adorable like this, snuggled up in a white duvet with his hair tousled from sleep.

“You’re adorable,” Will groans in his sleep-rough voice. 

Nico frowns playfully. “Am not.”

“Yeah, you are.” Will lifts his chin up and kisses him quickly. “Trust me on this one.”

Just as Nico’s about to kiss him for a second time, the newly attached door to Will’s room slams open. 

Nico flinches so fiercely he almost rams his forehead into Will’s face. “Fuck,” he swears. 

“Oh good, you’re dressed,” Piper interrupts. “We’re all back, and everyone wants you downstairs.”

Will groans, reveling in the warmth of his blankets. He pulls them off, shivering at the colder air beyond the heat of his duvet. Nico whines at the chill, and Will hauls him off the mattress.

Piper stares. “Well _that_ was adorable.”

“Shut up,” Will grumbles, grabbing a hoodie and pulling it over his shivering torso. Nico steals one too. He shoves it on, messing up his hair even more.

Will takes one look at him and laughs. 

“What?” Nico grumbles. Across his chest says the words NERDS UNITE in big white block letters against the black fabric. Nico sighs, adjusts the sleeves, and drags Will out the door. 

“That was six different levels of adorable,” Piper admits. “You need to know that. I mean, seriously guys.”

“Shut up, Piper.” Nico rolls his eyes and stuffs his hands in the hoodie’s pockets, tumbling down the stairs into the living room. 

Half of them are passed out on couches. There’s grass in Hazel’s frizzy locks, as well as a streak of dirt down her cheek. Frank looks like he rolled through a farm, plants and all. Thalia’s hair is sticking in six different directions, and the rings on her fingers spark every few seconds. She looks like she just took too many Adderall pills. 

Everyone else seems okay. Percy seems to be imitating a welcome mat on the floor, but he can’t be hurt that bad with how much he’s groaning about it.

“Tell me again,” Thalia sighs, running her sparking fingers through her hair. It sticks up only further. “What _exactly_ did she say?”

“That the answer was right in front of my face!” Annabeth cries. “I already said it a million times--”

“What’s going on?” Will interrupts. 

Annabeth looks up. Immediately, her cheeks go pink. “Will--”

“You can do all that later,” he brushes off. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Annabeth met the Handler,” Thalia grumbles. “My old boss. Don’t tell me why she met with _Annabeth_ and not me, I don’t want to know. But she said she couldn’t-- no, _wouldn’t--_ stop the apocalypse, and the person who starts it is right in front of Annabeth’s face.”

“Who the hell could start the apocalypse that we haven’t thought about yet?” Annabeth mumbles. “You said the world was on fire, right Thalia?”

Everyone slowly looks to Leo. 

“Hey, it’s not him,” Thalia assures. “Buildings were destroyed-- blasted into smithereens. Just fire couldn’t knock that all down.”

“Well, the fire rules me out,” Percy says. 

“Frank, Clarisse and I are out too,” Piper says. “I don’t think I could enchant the end of the world.”

“By process of elimination, the only one with a power that fits the destruction is…” Thalia trails off. She swallows, her fingers are still sparking from stress. “Me.”

Nobody really speaks. 

Will wants to console Thalia, he really does, but he has no idea what he’s talking about. He doesn’t _have_ any powers. 

A forgotten bit of glass crunches underneath his foot. Will frowns, picking it up and tucking it into his pocket. 

“What do we do now?” Hazel asks, her voice small as she pulls a bit of hay out of her hair. Will decides not to ask about that.

“I don’t know,” Thalia mumbles. “Lock me up, if you want.”

“No way,” Percy insists. “This-- whatever starts the apocalypse-- it isn’t us. It _can’t_ be one of us.”

“There’s no one with powers like ours!” Leo protests. “There’s only twelve of us.”

Annabeth frowns. “How much shit did Dad hide from us?”

Jason shrugs. Everyone else looks confused. “I mean… a fair bit, right?”

“What if we’re not the only kids with powers?” Annabeth asks. “What if we’re just the only kids he could _get?”_

Silence befalls the room. 

“Shit,” Percy breathes. “Yeah, think about it this way. You’ve just had a baby that you weren’t even pregnant with in the morning. A strange man comes up to you and asks to _buy_ said baby. Wouldn’t a good portion of people say, ‘no fucking way’?”

“Ohh, this is bad,” Thalia whispers. “Now we have _no idea._ Like, at all.” She runs her fingers through her hair one last time. “Well, what the hell do we do now?”

Nobody really wants to answer her question. 

“Well shit,” Piper breathes. “I need a drink.” She shuffles off to the kitchen without a further word. 

“Hey Will?” Annabeth says in a small voice. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Will freezes. Nico instinctively shifts closer to him. 

“Yeah,” Will mutters. “Uh-- I’ll be right back, Nico.”

Nico gives him a warning glare as he leaves and follows Annabeth into the entrance hall. 

“I need to start with I’m sorry,” Annabeth stutters. “What I said was hurtful, and wrong, and _so_ not true. I was just really high strung and I wanted to-- to _win_ the argument so I said something that hurt, and-- that wasn’t okay. I’m really sorry.”

Will nods awkwardly. “It’s-- I, uh, accept your apology.”

Annabeth taps her fingers on the side of her thigh. “This is awkward now.”

Will nods. “I’m gonna--” he jerks his thumb back towards the living room where Nico is.

“Right,” Annabeth stammers. 

Will nods again, and walks out as un-awkwardly as he can manage.

That didn’t go… too bad, did it?”

Back in the living room, just Nico is there. He presses a kiss to the top of Nico’s head and collapses onto a couch.

Dusk is starting to set outside. Nico starts to fall asleep in his chair, wrapped up in Will’s hoodie with his hair still a tangled mess. 

After making sure Nico’s completely asleep, Will snaps a picture and saves it to his Favorites. 

He smiles softly, clicks off his phone, and looks outside.

The sunset is _beautiful._ Red and orange streaked across the backs of city buildings, of towers that cut through the fading sun like jagged daggers. 

Will turns around. Nico’s still firmly asleep, and he doesn’t want to wake him up.  
So Will watches the sunset alone. 

He treks up the three flights of stairs, through the unfinished room, and all the way to the ledge of the window that just a day ago he and Nico kissed on. 

Will dangles his legs over the edge, the brisk night air chilling him to the bone. He leans his head against the cold brick wall, absently running a hand through his hair. 

This may be one of the last sunsets he sees. 

Despite that he’s the happiest he’s ever been, the world is still ending. There’s a chance he could never end up doing what he loves-- helping people. 

He was supposed to start an internship in July.

For a second, he imagines what that would be like. Being able to live like a normal person again. Just him, and maybe Nico.

God, Nico. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and clicks back to the picture of Nico sleeping. Will smiles quietly, and tears start to prick in his eyes.

Nico deserves to live longer than next week. 

Will blinks the tears out of his eyes and sets the picture as his lock screen. 

He tucks his phone back in his pocket, shifts his stance, and--

What the fuck is that?

Will winces in pain, groaning as he pulls the sharp thing out of his pocket. It’s the piece of glass he found on the floor-- in the mess of Annabeth’s apology and the debilitating-ness of Nico in his hoodie, he never got a chance to throw it away. 

Will tries to get a better grip on the glass. He curses as it slips, clutching it harder, and--

“Damn it!” Will swears. Blood drips out of the side of his thumb, falling with a little splash on his jeans. “Shit,” he grumbles, swiping the blood off his jeans. 

He gets a steady grip on the glass buried about half a centimeter into his skin, pulls, and--

_Fuck._

Will, still cursing in pain, drops the bloody shard out of surprise. It falls down all three stories of the house, landing with a faint clink on the dirty ground. 

His hand is _bright._ Like, spotlight-bright. Will looks up, searching for a streetlamp, or maybe a return of the sun, but there’s nothing.

The light strengthens. The blood running down his hand scrubs off like dirt under a fierce hose. Light pours into his cut, searing and bright gold, as though it’s being sucked in from the dusky sky, little strings of yellow flying towards his hand. The light dribbles into his wound, the gold turning richer as the cut thins, until there’s nothing but a copper line in his skin. Then, nothing.

The rest of his skin glows for a second, pulsing, then shuts off like he’s flicked a light switch.

Will examines his thumb in disbelief. There’s nothing, not a single mark, drop of blood, or even a scar.

“What the fuck?” he whispers.

Will frowns. He leans back suddenly, falling off the windowsill onto the floor of the unfinished room. He scrambles for something sharp, some chip of brick or forgotten nail. A shard of tile fulfills his wish, pointy and broken and covered in dusk. 

All of his medical training instincts yelling at him, Will presses the tile to his arm and makes a long, shallow cut. 

He curses-- it stings like a _bitch._

The same thing happens. 

Except this time, the light seems to get sucked specifically from the two bare lightbulbs at the corners of the room. The light floods in, washing the blood away, until there’s nothing there but unblemished tan skin.

“What the fuck?” Will whispers, to nothing in particular. “What the fuck?”

The bloody tile falls from his hand and clatters once, twice, before stilling on the floor. 

Will stares in shock while his blood drips down, one drop at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYYY WHAT'S THAT? PLOT! PLOT! PLOT! FINALLYYYYYYYY!!!!!
> 
> next time on hsow: will deals with his discovery.


	9. In Which Nico Goes A Little Batshit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will explores his new power. Nico freaks out. An unexpected ally arrives, and some trauma is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo ho ho it's only been a week i am yes good human
> 
> this chapter is one of my favorites. not gonna lie, i totally love will's character and some _major_ shit is revealed about it here. read on, my loyal friends!

Will wakes up on a hard, wooden floor. 

He blinks. Frowns. Then sits straight up like he’s been electrocuted. 

_It had to have been a dream._

Will looks down. The tile shard seems to taunt him with its crusted on, dried blood-- telling him that nothing last night was a lie. 

What… what does this mean?

That he has power? That he always has?

Will thinks he’s gonna be sick. 

He takes the tile and chucks it out the window, watching as it lands with a clank in a dumpster across the alley. 

Will drops his head into his hands, scrubbing at his scalp. “It can’t be true,” he repeats, over and over again, like a mantra. “It can’t--”

Will freezes. 

_The pills._

He rips his phone from his pocket and googles the name of his meds, the scientific name, not just the brand name. It’s medicine for nerves, that’s true, but his dose is far above the recommended gram limit. 

This medicine is for _suppression._ For trauma patients who need to keep their feelings under control, for people with depression to stop their suicidal thoughts. 

Will’s phone falls to the floor with a clatter. God, how could he have been so stupid?

Emotion suppressing medication. The lights shattering when Annabeth said what she did. 

Will thinks back, all the way to two nights ago, with Nico in his bed--

_The lightbulb._

That wasn’t Nico. That was him. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Will says slowly, so quietly he can barely hear it himself. “I’m not powerless.” He laughs a little, almost hysterically, and then starts to grin. “I have a power!”

God, he can’t wait to--

“Shit,” Will realizes, the happiness starting to drain from him. “Shit shit _shit.”_

If this really is his power… why would Dad have hid it?

Why would he have worked _so hard_ to make Will the ostracized one, to keep his power clamped down and shut away in a pill-reinforced box in the back of his brain? Why would he do that? 

The answer sinks into his stomach like a blanket of led. He suddenly feels nauseous again. 

The answer is, he must be _too powerful._

He might even laugh out of the ironicity. His whole life, he’s been ordinary, nothing compared to the others. Even in the few self defence lessons he was put him in, he always failed. Someone always kicked his ass.  
So the fact that he could be more powerful than them all is laughable. 

But... maybe it’s true. 

The sun is rising outside. It looks to be about early morning, maybe seven o’clock or so. Will groans, stretching his stiff joints. His neck cracks like a gunshot, and he stumbles to his feet before tumbling down the stairs. 

He can’t tell anyone. Not yet. Right now, he has to get to a safe place where he can figure out what the _fuck_ this all is.

Since it’s still sun up, nobody else is awake. Nico is still passed on on the armchair, swimming in Will’s sweater while his chest rises and falls slowly.

Today marks six days left. Six days. He can do this. He can get away, go somewhere safe, figure out what this is, and get home back in time to help stop the apocalypse. He can do this. 

Will takes one last look at Nico before tip-toeing up the stairs to his bedroom. 

He stuffs everything he could need into a backpack-- clothes, a charger, emergency cash-- and slings it over his shoulder. Will takes his phone out of his pocket, and turns off Find My Iphone. He puts his phone on airplane mode for good measure-- he’ll only use it for communication if he needs help. 

He has to do this. For Nico, and the others. He has to figure out what’s so dangerous about his power that made Dad keep it quiet.

Normally, he’d chalk it up to the man being a horrible father. But if there’s one thing the bastard loved, it was power. That was the _only_ thing he loved, the fact that they were special and different.

He would have done anything to save Will’s power. That’s what makes this so much more terrifying. 

Will creeps down the stairs, checking to make sure no one is awake before he opens the front door with a tiny, tiny click, and slips through the crack. He closes it as softly as he can, before turning to the street. 

The morning rush is starting. People walking to work, early runners getting their exercise in.

Will starts walking.

* * *

Annabeth wakes to a startled voice.

“Has anybody seen Will?” Someone yells. “Anyone!”

Annabeth sits straight up like she’s been shocked. She throws the blankets off her legs and dashes out of her door in nothing but a tank top and a pair of flannel pajama pants. 

Piper’s next to her as she tumbles down the stairs. Percy and Jason are next, Jason fully dressed while Percy looks like he just woke up when she did. 

They find Nico in the living room. He’s still wearing Will’s sweatshirt, but his arms are crossed over his chest so it reads ERDS UNIT instead of NERDS UNITE.

“What is it?” Hazel gasps. “What happened.”

Nico’s hand won’t stop jittering. He bites at his lip so hard he’s wincing, but doesn’t seem to notice it. “Will’s gone,” he forces out. “I fell asleep in the armchair so I didn’t see him go to bed-- I’ve checked _everywhere,_ all three floors, his room, _my room,_ even the fucking _coat_ closets. I called his phone-- it’s either offline or broken, ‘cause it goes straight to voicemail. Find My Friends isn’t working either.”

“I think I was the last to see him,” Annabeth murmurs. “I apologized, and you were already asleep--”

Nico tilts his head, grinding his teeth together. “I swear to God, if you said something that made him freak and run--”

“I didn’t!” She protests, running over the entire conversation in her mind. “I said that what I told him was wrong, I didn’t mean it, and… well, basically that I was a dick!” Annabeth entwines her fingers together. “I would never try to hurt him _again.”_

“Fine,” Nico says. “I believe you.” He runs a nervous hand through his hair. “But did he say anything going somewhere? Did he give you any plausible explanation of why my boyfriend would go missing six days before the fucking apocalypse?” Nico glances to his side, and blows a giant sigh through his nose. “I know,” he whispers to his side. “I’m sorry, I’m just freaking out.”

“Does Bia know anything?” Hazel asks.

Nico shakes his head. “She saw him go upstairs after I fell asleep, but that’s it.”

Thalia bites her tongue. “You know what this means, right?”

Nico frowns. “What?” he questions, breathless and afraid.

“Hylla and Otrera,” Thalia says, slow and articulate. 

Nico’s mouth falls open. He freezes, just for a second, before yelling, “FUCK!”

“Oh God, it makes sense,” Piper despairs. “They already saw they can get to us through him when they used him as bait--”

“And they know he either doesn’t have a power, or if he does, it’s weak,” Nico finishes her sentence for her. “Fuck fuck fuck _fuck,_ I’m gonna kill those bitches.”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Jason orders. “If you try and find them without a plan, you could end up dead, and I’m pretty sure Will would be mad about that.”

Nico looks up, desperation and drive apparent in his eyes. “I don’t have time to plan,” he grits his teeth. “I love him, okay? I can’t lose him!”

Hazel’s eyes bug. “You _what!”_

Nico waves his hands a little too fast. “Yeah, I’ve been in love with him since I was fourteen, it’s a whole thing that I’m not going to get into right now!”

“You’re _so_ telling me all about this later,” Piper insists.

Nico sighs so fiercely it’s almost a hiss. “What are we waiting for, again!”

“Nico,” Thalia says in a firm voice. She ventures forward, and grabs his shoulders. “You need to calm down before you go _anywhere.”_

Nico runs a hand through his ridiculously tousled hair. “I just can’t--” He folds head hanging. “I have to get him back.”

“We will,” Thalia says. “Hylla and Otrera will let us know they’ve got leverage. They already tried the torture game, it doesn’t work.”

Nico shakes his head. “Not good enough. I’m not going to wait here while they _maybe_ torture my boyfriend--”

“You won’t be waiting here,” Thalia assures. “We’re going on a hunt, Death Boy. I got the license plate of their car. Apparently, they ditched it by a donut shot only three blocks over.”

Nico’s pressed lips slowly curve into a smile. “Time for revenge,” he murmurs. 

Thalia winks. 

“I’m going too,” Annabeth insists. 

Everyone turns to her. Thalia frowns, tilting her head in confusion. Her choppy bob moves with her head, bouncing like a jaunty wave of blue and black. 

“What?” Annabeth sighs. “These assholes tortured you, Percy, I’m sure you’d get it.”

“Enough of that,” Piper interrupts. “What can we do from back here?”

Thalia bites the inside of her cheek. “Intercept whatever deal those two are proposing, and protect the Academy in case the Commision sends insurance forces.” Thalia grins, lopsided and sloppy. “Think you can handle that?”

Piper sticks out her tongue and gives Thalia the finger. “No shit we can handle it.”

“Good.” Thalia’s grin goes from lopsided to smiling all around. “Now let’s go kick the _shit_ out of these assholes.”

* * *

Will finds himself at a bus depot. 

There’s a tiny cabin at a lake he can stay in-- it’s April, the place will be deserted, and he knows where to find the spare key. 

So, Will books himself a ticket upstate. 

The bus isn’t too bad. It’s boring though-- he doesn’t trust himself to use his phone, knowing if he turns off Airplane Mode and goes onto the cell network there’s a chance Leo would wire something to track his signal. He may not know much about electronics, but he knows Leo’s mechanical _and_ electrical engineering degrees are not something to mess with. 

So instead, he looks out the window and stares at his new lock screen in turn.

His heart aches for leaving Nico. He’s so afraid that when he comes back, Nico might hate him for leaving in the first place. That he might despise him for lying, for not telling.

What would it look like to watch Nico turn his back on him? How much would that hurt? Would it be excruciating? Heartbreaking?

He knows the real answer is both. 

“He won’t,” Will mutters under his breath. “We’ve been friends for years. He won’t.”

The old lady across the row and two seats down frowns at him, and Will quickly turns his gaze back to the window. 

With nothing else to do, he lets himself slip into old memories. 

_“...Nico?”_

_“Whoever you are, go away.” His voice is quiet, snuffling, even. Clearly the voice of someone who’s spent the better part of the day crying._

_Will looks up. The sun has set long ago, and night’s chill is descending. The stars are starting to come out, and he’s freezing after only being out for a half a minute._

_“Nico, you have to come back inside.”_ _  
__Nico looks up, his eyes rimmed with red. “I don’t have to go anywhere.” He clutches Bianca’s grave harder, pressing his cheek against the stone. “I’m staying here.”_

_“You’ll freeze--”_

_“I’ll be fine.”_

_“Okay then,” Will sighs. “If you’re staying out here, I’m staying with you.” He lets the two blankets he brought fall to the ground with a thump._

_Nico frowns, pursing his eyebrows and tilting his head. “What?”_

_“If you’re staying, I’m staying too.”_

_“You’re not my friend,” Nico grumbles with pre-teen bluntness. “You don’t need to protect me.”_

_“I’m not trying to,” Will shrugs. “Be your friend or protect you. Ever think it might be because I miss her too?” He unfolds a blanket and drapes it over Nico’s shoulders, tucking it in beneath his arms. His hand brushes past Nico’s cheek; the skin there is cold as ice._

_“No one else misses her enough to sit out in the cold.”_

_Will shrugs again. “They’re all dealing with it their own way. You looked like you needed someone.”_

_“I don’t need anything--”_

_“Relax, Nico,” Will reassures. “You don’t have to like me. You don’t even have to talk to me. I just want to make sure there’s someone here with you. I know what it’s like to be alone._

_Halfway through the night, Nico’s ice-cold hand finds Will’s. Despite the sting of Nico’s icy fingertips, Will holds on tight._

Will slips out of the memory as the bus hits a bump in the road. He leans his head against the window after that, still tired from his early rise and last night’s… revelations.

After an excruciatingly boring three hour bus ride, he’s finally off and on his way to solitude.

The cabin is about a thirty minute walk from town. He stops and gets a few groceries on his way-- enough to last him a day.

That’s all he plans to spend up here. Just one day, one night, then he’s back to Nico with this new power sorted out and controlled. 

Nothing to worry about, right?

God, he wishes he could tell Nico. He wishes Nico could be here with _him,_ helping him through this nightmare.

But if he really is this dangerous, no one can be near him. No one can know.

Not even Nico. 

Alone on the unpaved road, the cabin stands waiting for him. Will nudges the welcome mat to the side, scooping the glimmering key that lies behind it. He carefully slides the key into the lock, turning it slowly and letting the door creak open on its own. 

Inside, the cabin is cold and dusty. Will flicks on the lights and opens up the shades, letting the dusty sunlight stream in.

He dumps his bag on the couch and starts putting his groceries in the fridge methodically, like that will distract him from the giant upset in his life. 

Will glances at the oven. It’s almost eleven o’clock. He dusts off his hands, snatches back up his jacket, and heads outside. 

He’s at the door when he leans back and snatches a paring knife off the counter.

* * *

It’s been half an hour.  
Half an hour of staring at the sun, sitting on the dock, holding out his hand like an idiot and trying to make it glow. 

“What am I doing,” he mutters to himself. “Am I going crazy?”

The paring knife lies lonely on the wooden slates of the old dock, glinting in the mid-morning sun. Its sharp edge seems to taunt him. 

He’s already tried. Twice. Each time, his cuts sewed themself up before he could even get a good look. 

“Calm down,” he mutters to himself. “You can do this. The first step to control is _access_ it.”

_Access it. Control._

Unbidden, Will’s mind spins into a memory.

_“Number Twelve!”_

_Will stands up as straight as he can. Around him, colors are soft and faded. Mahogany brown, deep red, the navy of his blazer._

_“Number Twelve,” the voice calls again. “Pay attention.”_

_The voice is sharp and harsh. Will knows that voice._

_“Number Twelve, I want you to focus here.”_

_His vision blurs into focus. Before him is a coffee table, standing at almost half of his now tiny height. The crest of the Umbrella Academy is stitched onto his blazer, and he’s… shorter._

_He’s younger._

_On the table are twelve lightbulbs, all plugged in and burning bright. Will winces, looking away._

_“Number Twelve, I need you to drain the light from the bulbs.”_

_In the memory, Will holds his hands out. His little, five year old hands, with brittle nails and skinny fingers._

_The lightbulbs flicker like candles in a strong wind, but none of them blow out. None of the light streams towards him._

_There’s a sigh. Shame swells in his stomach like a dark balloon.._

_“Again, Number Twelve. Focus.”_

_Will reaches out. He pours every ounce of his energy into his outstretched hands, yearning and seeking and pulling the light towards him. He yanks on the connection, desperate to prove himself, and…_

_Nothing._

_Another sigh bounces around the walls. “Insufficient.” The under-the-breath mutter stings like a fresh slap. A scratching of a pencil in a notebook accompanies the voice. “Number Twelve is not strong enough to access or control his--”_

_Will makes the lightbulbs shatter._

_His hands are clenched by his side, tense and tight. His fingernails dig into his palms, but he doesn’t care._

_The newly shattered glass on the ground begins to shake. The cores of the lightbulbs, now unprotected by a balloon of glass, flicker and die as their light flows into Will._

_His skin shines through his clothes. When the light from the bulbs is gone, he drains it from everywhere else. The lamps in the corner of the room. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The overhead lights from the balcony. He’s a flame in a dark room as all the light pours towards him like gold strings of fate._

_The room turns dark. Dark, quiet, and silent._

_Not for long._

_Will’s spine arches, his body snaps into place as light blasts out of every pore in his body, searing through his mind and his skull and his clothes, his clothes are smouldering from the heat, the glass on the floor is blown back, it’s like a shockwave of light--_

_And then it stops._

_Will’s out of energy._

_Slowly, each bulb from which he had stolen light flickers back on again. First the balcony lights, then the chandelier, the lamps, and lastly the half shattered bulbs on the low table._

_He doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid. He’s scared, terrified by the bright lights, he doesn’t want to be here, he wants to hug someone or curl up in a warm corner, he wants to stop, he needs to STOP--_

Will heaves in a breath so deep his lungs shudder.

Somehow, he’s landed flat on the dock. His face is inches above lake water. Below him, concerned minnows swim. 

His fingernails scrabble at worn wood. Will pulls himself up, sitting shakily and holding his hands out for balance. 

_His hands._

His hands, which are… glowing.

Little spheres of light seem to flow through his fingertips, like drops of dew or tiny pearls. They swarm up his arms like a school of fish, flocking around his shoulders and flowing around his collarbone.

The light pours into his chest, and his sternum pulses like a strobe light. 

“Oh my god,” Will whispers. 

Carefully, Will wiggles his fingers. He leans down and brushes his nails over the dock.

Once his fingers make contact, the wood is warm to the touch. It feels like sunlight.

“The light,” Will whispers. “It’s all connected to light.”

Sunlight falls down like yarn strings, ensnaring his arms and his neck, but it’s anything but caging. It’s _freeing._ It feels like he’s just had half a dozen espresso shots and maybe some steroids. 

Will laughs. He feels _amazing._

For a minute, all he does is twirl around like a Disney princess. He even sticks his hand in the lake for a minute; all the minnows and even a larger bass flock to the warmth his hand must put in the water. 

“Oh, shit,” Will gasps, as a giant turtle the size of a manhole cover swims up, barring a terrifying set of teeth. He yanks his hand out of the water, heart suddenly racing.

The minnows seem to follow his example. They all scurry away, but not before one of them meets a crunching doom via snapping jaws. 

Satisfied, the turtle turns away and sinks towards the watery depths. 

“Well then,” Will murmurs, still a little shell shocked. He falls back against the dock, still blinking in surprise. 

Guess he’s figured out what this thing is.

But what about that memory?

The feeling he felt all those years ago seeps back into his gut, the overwhelming fear he had in that moment. 

But what was he afraid of? There was nothing in the room but him, nothing but his power that poured out of every pore like an atomic bomb--

_It’s him._

He was scared of himself. 

The joy swirls out of him like water down an open sink. Fear settles in again, coating his stomach in poison honey. _This_ is why his power was hidden. 

Because that’s just it. Even he knew it, when he was five years old. 

It’s too _much_ power.

“Oh, god,” Will whispers.

He stares at the horizon as his skin silences its glow.

* * *

Thalia doesn’t even get to the door. 

There’s a polite knock. 

“What.” Hazel’s voice is completely monotone, her brown eyes blown wide.

Nico curls his hand into a fist, and Piper’s hand goes to her waistband where Annabeth is sure a gun is hiding. 

There’s a second knock.  
“I’ll get it,” Thalia whispers. She creeps forward, undoing the deadbolt and pulling open the door slowly, carefully--

And then she yanks. 

“You!” Thalia shrieks. 

Hylla crashes onto the ground, rolling over and groaning. “I just want to--”

Nico slides across the floor, baseball style. He vaults over Hylla, straddling her struggling form and pinning her wrists down with his combat boots. His fingers squeeze on the curve of her neck. “Tell me where Will is, or I swear to God, you’re not gonna make it out of this room alive.”

“I, don’t, know,” Hylla wheezes between breaths. _“Please--”_

“Tell me,” Nico growls. “What did you do to him!”

“ENOUGH,” Thalia bellows, yanking Nico off Hylla’s writhing form. “If you kill her now, we’ll never find out!”

“I don’t know what happened to your boyfriend,” Hylla gasps. “I swear on my life, I came here to help!”

Thalia’s eyebrows rise up into her choppy bangs. “You came here to what now?”

“Help,” Hylla sighs. There’s a building bruise and a couple scrapes across her olive face. “Otrera and I had a… falling out.”

“Where is she,” Nico snaps. “Did she take Will?”

“Neither of us took him,” Hylla insists. “I didn’t even know he was gone. I’m sorry, that must be--”

“Save it,” Nico spits. He looks like he wants to kick Hylla across the head. “If you didn’t take him, who did?”

“Told you, don’t know,” Hylla repeats. “I just want to help stop the apocalypse.”

Silence. 

Pure, uninterrupted silence. 

“No fucking way,” Piper breaks the silence. “You work for the people who are trying to keep the apocalypse intact, you ass.”

“I left the Commision,” Hylla spits. “See these?” She gestures to her face, the crusted cuts and bruises that lie there. “A parting gift from Otrera. We split, I’m on the run.”

“You can’t honestly believe her,” Nico scoffs. “If she didn’t take Will, who did?”

Thalia kneels to get on Hylla’s level. “The Commision knows what I can do,” she whispers, summoning a crackling ball of energy to the palm of her hand. “And so do you. How about you tell me why you _really_ left the Commision?”

Hylla chews on her lip and glances angrily to the side. “They lied to me,” she snaps. “I joined the Commision because my mother and father were killed when I was ten years old. My little sister was four. They told me she died along with them, but they _lied_ to me.” Hylla spits viciously on the floor, her lips glistening red from old blood. “So, yeah, I have something to live for. Gotta find my baby sister.”

Thalia stares into her eyes. Annabeth imagines that they’re crackling with electricity like they always are.

“Let’s talk in private,” Thalia says to the rest of them. She turns back to Hylla. “You-- stay here. If you move, I kill you.”

To that, Hylla gives a sarcastic smirk. “Got it, Boss.”

Thalia purses her lips and herds them away from the entrance hall. The moment they’re out of earshot, Nico turns on Thalia.

“You cannot be serious about trusting her,” he growls. “She’s got to be lying.”

Thalia licks her lips. “She’s not,” she murmurs. “I _know_ who Hylla is, I know her file and her story is true. If her sister is alive, Hylla would jump at the chance to find her and sabotage the organization that took her away.”

“When they were torturing me,” Percy interjects. “Hylla didn’t do any of it. Otrera was the one to get creative. She genuinely looked a little disturbed about hurting me.”

“Percy, she’s a murderer!” Annabeth exclaims. 

“So am I!” Thalia cries. “We have _all_ hurt and killed people with someone else behind the wheel. For Hylla, it was the Commision. For us, it was Dad.”

“Fine, say she’s telling the truth,” Nico suggests with a wave of his hand. “If she didn’t take Will-- If the _Commision_ didn’t take him, who did? Where did he go?”

Piper rubs her eyes. Leo seems to be intensively braiding copper fibers without even looking, his hands flying and sometimes flickering with a little nervous flame. 

Annabeth combs tiredly through her hair. “I think she’s telling the truth.”

Nico rounds on her. “Annabeth--”

“What!” She cries. “As much as I wanted to snap the bitch’s neck yesterday, I think she’s telling the truth! Thalia went into the Commision because she was all alone, the same as Hylla. They _both_ left to protect their families. What makes them so different?”

“Thalia never _tortured_ anyone.”

“Now that’s a fucking lie,” Thalia spits. “I’ve done some twisted shit for the Commission and you know it.”

“It’s not the point!” Nico yells. “One of us is missing! _Will_ is missing, and none of you seem to care!”

“That’s not true--”

“Nico, you can’t think that--”

“We won’t abandon him, but we have _no_ leads--”

“You never cared about him before,” Nic admits, his voice growing thick with tears. _“I_ didn’t care about him. It took my sister _dying_ to see that he is just like us, another suffocating kid trapped with an abusive father with fucked-up expectations, but he had no one to turn to. He was _alone_ for the first decade and a half of his life all because we were all shitty people! He felt worthless the _entirety_ of our childhood, and the only reason I noticed is because my person _died!”_

Nico pauses, viciously wiping a stray tear from his eye and heaving a painful breath. “You all had your people. Hazel and Frank had each other. Annabeth and Percy were conjoined at the hip. Same thing with Piper and Leo, Jason and Thalia, Clarisse and Annabeth-- where did that leave him? I had Bianca until I _didn’t,_ and when you all left me alone with my grief he came and _cried_ with me.”

Nico doesn’t bother to stop the tears, he lets them flow now. Guilt churns deep in Annabeth’s gut.

And Nico doesn’t stop. “He is the only one of us with genuine good intentions and _hope_ that we could be better but we keep letting him down! I refuse to give up looking for him because I _love him,_ and you can’t say the same!”

Annabeth almost falls down. 

Because Will was _alone._

She thought he had this perfect life-- didn’t he have this perfect life?

He never had to stare down the barrel of a gun. He never had to run for his life.

But he had to stay behind in these empty, barren walls with nothing but his thoughts and a father who loved none of them. He had nothing to offer, and they all treated him as though he was worthless.

Annabeth fights to breathe. She tries to count her breaths. 

One. One. One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmaooooo you'd better have enjoyed that solangelo fluff cuz we in angst town now, baby
> 
> fun fact: the turtle thing? actually happened to me. i was about to jump off the dock then BAM this giant turtle just swam out from underneath the dock and lemme tell you that scared my seven year old self to the core.
> 
> next time on hsow: will has a situation, nico continues to search, and piper discovers she's played a bigger part in will's past then she realized.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! special thanks goes out to my beta, killljoysmakenoise. my commas are shit without you!
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @all-this-panic-still-no-disco and check out my instagram for a trash can of faves @liza_marri


End file.
